THE  PPiKsCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 


BY 

BORDEN   P.  BOWNE 

PKOFESSOK  OF  PHILOSOPHY  IN  BOSTON  UNIVERSITY 


NEW    YORK 
HARPER   &    BROTHERS,   FRANKLIN   SQUARE 

1893 


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OTHER  WORKS  BY  PROFESSOR  BOWNE. 


METAPHYSICS:    A   STUDY   IN   FIRST  PRINCIPLES. 
INTRODUCTION  TO  PSYCHOLOGICAL  THEORY. 
PHILOSOPHY  OF  THEISM. 


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PREFACE 

This  work  is  an  introduction  to  fundamental 
moral  ideas  and  principles,  rather  than  a  detailed 
discussion  of  specific  duties  and  virtues. 

Moral  philosophy  has  been  with  us  from  the  begin- 
ning ;  but  moral  theory  still  fails  to  get  on.  Ac- 
cording to  Rousseau,  Socrates  defined  justice,  but 
r>  men  had  been  just  before.  It  is  a  happy  circum- 
vy^  stance,  and  one  very  full  of  comfort,  that  in  the  great 
bulk  of  duties  that  make  up  life,  men  of  good  will 
can  find  their  way  without  a  moral  theory.  One 
feels  this  especially  when  listening  to  the  confusion 
of  tongues  which  the  history  of  moral  science 
presents. 

This  confusion  has  several  prominent  sources. 
^  First,  irrelevant  psychological  questions  are  started. 
Secondly,  there  has  been  a  very  general  desire  to 
deduce  the  moral  life  from  a  theory,  instead  of  de- 
ducing a  theory  from  the  moral  life.  This  inverted 
procedure,  which  is  structural  with  the  dogmatic 
mind,  has  led  to  numberless  distortions  of  experi- 
ence, and  to  unreal  simplifications  and  explanations 
without  end.  But  probably  the  chief  source  of  the 
confusion  is  the  failure  to  bring  our  abstractions  to 


^i 


211349 


IV  PREFACE 

the  best  of  concrete  application.  Ethical  theory  has 
been  a  product  of  the  closet  rather  than  of  life.  A 
closet  philosopher  can  build  a  number  of  plausible 
systems  with  such  abstractions  as  duty,  virtue,  and 
happiness ;  and  so  long  as  he  remains  in  the  closet, 
no  difficulty  appears.  In  order  that  we  may  under- 
stand these  abstractions,  both  in  their  plausibility 
and  in  their  barrenness,  I  have  dwelt  upon  them  at 
length.  There  seemed  to  be  no  other  way  of  clear- 
ing the  ground,  and  of  freeing  ourselves  from 
sterile  contentions  and  dreary  verbal  disputes.  It 
makes  pretty  dry  reading  indeed;  but  it  is  neces- 
sary for  understanding  the  course  of  ethical  thought. 

Apart  from  this  critical  discussion,  the  work  has 
two  leading  thoughts.  One  is  the  necessity  of 
uniting  the  intuitive  and  the  experience  school  of 
ethics  in  order  to  reach  any  working  system.  The 
other  is  that  the  aim  of  conduct  is  not  abstract 
virtue,  but  fulness  and  richness  of  life. 

On  the  first  point,  it  is  plain  upon  inspection  that 
each  school  is  needed  to  complete  the  other.  Ethics 
can  never  disj)ense  with  the  good  will  as  the  centre 
of  moral  theory ;  and  the  good  will  can  never  dis- 
l^ense  with  practical  wisdom  and  the  teachings  of 
experience,  if  it  is  not  to  lose  its  way.  When  we 
abstract  the  good  will  from  the  natural  objects  set 
for  its  exercise  in  our  constitution  and  the  nature 
of  things,  the  moral  life  is  carried  on  in  a  vacuum, 


PREFACE  V 

and  loses  all  real  substance  and  value.  And  when 
we  abstract  conduct  from  the  personality  in  which 
it  originates  and  which  it  expresses,  we  have  a 
base,  or  sordid,  externalism  which  is  its  own  con- 
demnation. 

Between  these  excesses,  moral  theory  has  largely 
oscillated  from  the  beginning.  Each  excess  has  gen- 
erated the  other.  The  intuitive  ethics  in  its  devo- 
tion to  virtue  has  alway  tended  to  the  vacuum  view 
of  the  moral  life.  It  has  been  encouraged  in  this 
error  by  misunderstood  religion.  Both  have  an  im- 
portant truth,  the  supreme  significance  of  the  moral 
personality ;  but  both  have  failed  properly  to  ap- 
preciate that  the  natural  life  furnishes  the  field  and 
the  raw  material  of  the  moral  life.  Thus  the  great 
normal  interests  of  humanity  have  been  forced  to  go 
their  way,  unblessed  and  even  stigmatized  as  dan- 
gerous and  profane.  With  such  conceptions  on  the 
part  of  ethics  and  religion,  the  opposing  secular  and 
worldly  view  was  necessary  for  the  full  expression 
of  life,  and  indeed  necessary  for  its  salvation.  But 
this  view  has  been  held  in  equal  one-sidedness,  and 
with  a  baseness  and  sordidness  of  aim  which  is  a 
libel  on  humanity. 

The  only  escape  from  these  excesses  is  to  see  that 
life  itself  is  the  field  of  morals,  and  the  realization 
of  ideal  Hfe  the  aim.  This  ann,  indeed,  is  only  a 
form  of  words  until  it  is  interpreted  by  the  living 


VI  PREFACE 

spirit ;  but  it  has  the  advantage  of  suggesting  that 
our  present  duty  consists,  not  in  the  pursuit  of  a 
mythical  or  unnatural  virtue,   but  in  faithfulness 
and  helpfulness  in  the  actual  relations  of  the  family, 
of   neighbor,   of   citizen,   etc.      Thus   the   mind   is 
recalled    from  the    insanities   of   ascetic   morality, 
and  from  the  negative  and  quietistic  aims  of  much 
ecclesiastical  morality,  and  is  set  upon  the  positive 
task  of  making  righteousness  and   good  will  stand 
fast  and  bear  rule  in  the  earth.     Ethics  must  find 
its  fruitful  field  in  these  homely  duties  and  relations. 
The  measure  of  Lucretia's  guilt  and  the  ethics  of 
martyrdom  are  unimportant  questions  in  compari- 
son.    They  are  not  likely  ever  to  become  real  ques- 
tions for  us ;  and  if  they  do,  we  may  be  sure  that  our 
previous  theorizing  will  not  help  us  in  their  solution. 
It  will  not  escape  the  reader's  attention  how  many 
practical  problems  are  theoretically  indeterminate. 
Mediaeval  ethics  sought  to  solve  such  problems  and 
lost  itself  in  an  endless  and  demoralizing  casuistry. 
For  such  cases,  ethics  can  only  lay  down  the  princi- 
ples of  conduct,  and  leave  individuals  to  apply  them. 
The  cases  of  casuistry  which  will  arise  in  every  life 
must  be  settled  by  the  individual  for  himself  and  at 
his  own  risk.   To  the  faithful  soul,  this  indeterminate - 
ness  will  be  a  call  to  inner  loyalty  and  impartiality. 
To  the  unfaithful,  it  will  serve  as  an  excuse  for  dis- 
loyalty.    To  those  who  fancy  that  guilt  attaches  to 


PREFACE  Vll 

deeds,  apart  from  any  consideration  of  the  agent's 
motives,  it  will  be  an  argument  for  an  infallible 
guide  to  morals.  To  the  wise  man,  it  will  be  a 
ground  for  charity  in  judging  the  motives  of  men. 
There  is  no  need  to  consider  the  excuse  of  the  un- 
faithful, as  one  who  does  not  wish  to  do  right  will 
never  lack  an  excuse.  No  theory  can  be  devised 
which  will  exclude  inward  or  outward  dishonesty. 

Pre-eminently  is  it  true  when  we  come  to  the 
larger  questions  of  society,  that  no  final  practical 
formula  can  be  found.  The  good  will  is,  of  course, 
an  absolute  duty  as  a  disposition;  but  the  best 
forms  of  its  realization  are  not  always  manifest. 
Here  especially  w^e  need  the  guidance  of  practical 
wisdom  and  the  teachings  of  experience.  The  pres- 
ent and  prevailing  weakness  of  our  ethico-social 
movements  is  the  general  accejDtance  of  the  notion 
that  any  one  who  means  well  is  fit  to  undertake 
social  reforms.  Of  course,  we  supremely  need  an 
armed,  aggressive,  unslumbering,  untiring  enthusi- 
asm for  humanity,  as  the  driving  force  of  all  re- 
form ;  but  without  practical  wisdom  that  enthusi- 
asm is  sure  to  lose  its  way,  and  to  aggravate  the 
ills  it  aims  to  cure.  How  much  of  the  noisy  zeal 
now  current  in  this  field  is  genuine  is  hard  to  say. 
Up  to  date,  its  generous  fervor  seems  so  completely 
exhausted  in  urging  others  to  self-sacrifice  as  to  re- 
call the  patriotic  devotion  of  the  late  Mr.  A.  ^Vard, 


Vlll  PREFACE 

In  any  case,  the  good  will  must  find  its  way  in  this 
field  by  experience,  by  trial  and  rejection,  by  prov- 
ing all  things  and  holding  fast  all  that  is  good. 
Especially  is  the  doctrinaire,  with  his  finalities  and 
finished  schemes,  to  be  avoided.  On  the  one  hand, 
the  conservative  will  plead  that  whatever  has  been 
ought  always  to  be,  and  on  the  other,  the  radical  will 
ignore  all  the  teachings  of  experience  in  the  in- 
terest of  a  brand-new  speculation.  Between  these 
extremes  of  unwisdom,  the  wise  man  must  find  his 
way,  guarding  himself  against  both  the  scruples  of 
ignorant  conscientiousness  and  the  lawlessness  of 
the  selfish  will. 

The  brief  discussion  of  our  leading  human  re- 
lations and  institutions  is  meant  as  a  hint  rather 
than  a  discussion.  It  is  intended  to  show  what  is 
meant  by  making  our  moral  task  to  consist  in  the 
moralization  of  life.  The  natural  must  be  raised 
to  the  plane  of  the  moral ;  but  the  moral  must  find 
its  field  in  the  natural.  It  is  also  intended  to  show 
how  complex  the  problems  are,  and  how  impossible 
it  is  to  solve  them  without  taking  into  account  both 
the  moral  nature  and  the  teachings  of  experience. 
The  lawyer,  the  economist,  the  historian,  and  the 
moralist  must  work  together,  and  the  sentimentalist 
must  be  left  out. 

Borden  P.  Bowne. 

Boston,  July,  1892. 


COjSrTEXTS 


PAGE 

INTRODUCTION.     .        .        .       1 

Tlie  Moral  Life  Does  not  Begin  with  Abstract  Principles, 
but  with  Concrete  Duties,  p.  1— But  the  Growth  of  Life 
Leads  to  a  Search  for  Principles  whereby  the  Concrete 
Duties  may  be  Understood,  p.  1.  —Possible  Directions 
of  Ethical  Study,  p.  2. — Ethical  Irrelevance  of  the  Ques- 
tion Concerning  tlie  Origin  of  Moral  Ideas,  p.  4. — Sup 
posed  Importance  of  the  Question  Ex])lained,  p  5. — The 
Law  of  Evolution  Does  not  Mend  the  Matter,  p.  7. — 
The  Test  of  Truth  must  Finally  be  Found  in  our  Present 
Faculties  and  Present  Experience,  p.  12, — Complexity  and 
Discord  of  Ethical  Literature  Explained,  p.  13. — Various 
Schools  of  Etliics,  p.   14. 

Chapter  I. 

FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS   AND    THEIR  ORDER.      20 

The  Good,  Duty  and  Virtue  are  the  Fundamental  Moral 
Ideas  and  are  Alike  Necessary,  p.  20. —One  sided  Systems 
Arise  from  Recognizing  only  One  of  these  Ideas,  p.  20.  — 
Dut}^  Ethics  and  the  Goods  Ethics  Explained,  p.  21. — 
The  Argument  of  the  Goods  Ethics  Clear  only  when  Ab- 
stractly Considered,  p.  27. — Yet  all  Systems  nmst  finally 
Fall  Back  on  the  Goods  Ethics  to  Save  their  own  Posi- 
tion, p.  28. — Emptiness  of  the  Categorical  Imperative 
without  Reference  to  an  End,  p.  29. — The  Argument  of 
the  Duty  Ethics  is  Satisfactory  only  when  Applied  to  the 
Motives  of  the  Agent,  and  is  of  little  Use  in  Forming  a 
Code,  p.  33. — Barrenness  of  all  Formal  Ethics,  p.  3.j. — 
Necessity  of  Uniting  the  Goods  Ethics  and  the  Duty 
Ethics,  p.  36.— Formal  and  Material  Rightness  Explained, 


X  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

p.  39 —Ethics  not  Exhausted  in  "Relations  of  Will,"  p. 
41.— Kant's  Claim  that  no  Action  is  Morally  Right  which 
is  not  Done  from  a  Sense  of  Dutj',  p,  43. 

Chapter  II. 

THE    GOOD 47 

Not  Easy  to  Define  the  Good,  because  of  the  Lack  of  In- 
sight into  our  own  Nature,  47. — Hence  many  Conceptions 
of  the  Good,  p.  48.  —Nature  of  Go6ds  in  General,  p.  49.  — 
Nothing  Good  Except  for  the  Sensibility,  p.  49. — Misun- 
derstandings Considered,  p.  50. — The  Notion  of  a  Common 
Pleasure  in  all  Desirable  Experiences  a  Logical  Fiction, 
p.  51. — Forms  of  Hedonism,  p  57. — Psychological  Hedon- 
ism always  Plausible  to  Superficial  Thinking,  p.  58. — 
Its  Self- destructive  Character,  p.  o9. — Its  Doctrine  of  De- 
sire, p.  59,  —Desire  not  Founded  Solely  in  the  Passive 
Sensibility,  but  also  in  Self  consciousness,  p  63. —Hence 
no  Amount  of  Passive  Pleasure  can  be  an  Adequate  End 
for  Man  as  an  Active  Being  Capable  of  Forming  Ideals, 
p.  65. — Vagueness  of  Happiness  as  the  Good,  p  66. — 
"Virtue  as  the  Good,  p  67. — Formal  Definition  or  the  Good, 
p.  69. — Impossibility  of  Separating  the  Natural  Goods  of 
our  Constitution  from  the  Moral  Goods  of  the  Will  and 
Conscience,  p.  70. — Perfect  Life  Needs  both  the  Good  Will 
and  a  Perfect  Environment  for  its  Realization,  p    73. 

Chapter  III. 

NEED    OF   A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD.  .       76 

An  Ideal  Needed  to  Interpret  our  Terms,  p  76.  — Ethical 
Individualism  Practically  Impossible,  p  77. — The  Ques- 
tion Complicated  with  Irrelevanc  Psychological  Issues,  p. 
78.— The  Alliance  of  the  Goods  Ethics  with  Selfish  and 
Sensational  Psychology  Purely  Accidental,  p  79 — The 
Calculating  Ethics  Explained  and  its  Ambiguity  Shown, 
p.  81. — To  Make  Actual  Happiness  the  Law  of  Action 
Leads  to  Pure  Individualism,  p.  83.— No  Relief  in  Appeal- 
ing to  a  Moral  Nature ,   for  (a)  the  Moral  Nature  has  no 


CONTENTS  XI 

I 

PAGE 

Authority,  and  (b)  the  Appeal  Disturbs  the  Purity  of  the 
Caicuhiting  Doctrine, p.  84.— Little  Relief  in  Appealing 
to  Social  C'oiiscr|uonces .  for  (a)  the  Selfish  Doctrine  of 
Desire  Stands  iu  our  Way,  and  (b)  the  Duty  of  Seeking 
the  Common  Good  is  Assumed,  p.  87. — Barrenness  of  the 
Social  Appeal,  p.  88. — Obscurity  of  the  Notion  of  Utility, 
and  the  DilHculties  Attending  its  Application,  p.  90. — No 
Way  Out  of  These  Puzzles  but  to  Assume  Some  Sort  of 
Ideal  Conception  or  Inner  Law  whieli  Determines  the 
Permissible  Meanings  of  our  Terms,  p.  96. 

Chapter  IV. 

SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS.      .  .  .98 

Idea  of  Moral  Obligation,  and  the  Failure  of  the  Attempts 
to  Define  or  Deduce  It,  p.  100. — The  Idea  Arises  within 
the  Mind  Itself  as  the  Free  Spirit  Imposes  Duty  ui)on  It- 
self, p.  102.  — Practical  Barrenness  of  the  Formal  Ideas 
of  Duty  and  Obligation,  p.  105. — Herbart's  Doctrine  of 
"Relations  of  AVill,"  p.  106  —The  Law  of  Good  Will  and 
the  Law  of  Requital  the  Deej^est  and  only  Absolute  ]\Ioral 
Laws,  p.  106. — The  Law  of  Justice  Derivative,  p.  108. — 
The  Law  of  Good  Will  Conditioned  by  an  Ideal  of  Hu- 
man Perfection,  p.  110. — Ethics  of  the  Individual  not 
Exhausted  in  Social  Duties,  p.  113. — Dr.  Martineau's  View 
of  the  Moral  Judgment  as  Resulting  from  a  Comparison 
of  Motives,  p  114. — Difficulties  of  this  View  when  Made 
All  embracing,  p.  115. — The  Moral  Ideal  a  Growth,  p.  110. 
— The  Authority  of  this  Ideal  Independent  of  the  Statute 
Book,  p,  118. — Judgments  of  Imperfection  Distinguished 
from  Judgments  of  Guilt,  p.    121. 

Chapter  V. 

DEVELOPMENT   IN   MORALS.  .  .124 

Factors  in  Development,  p.  125.  — Life  Begins  on  the  Plane 
of  the  Natural,  p.  125. — Embryonic  Character  of  Human 
Life  in  its  Upper  Ranges  Illustrated,  p.  127.  — Inuuaturity 
of  the  Moral  Life,  p.    129. —Direction  of  Moral  Develop- 


Xll  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ment,  p.  133.— Unfolding  of  the  Moral  Ideal,  p.  133  — 
Application  of  Principles  to  Conduct,  p.  13^. — Rise  of  the 
Conventional  Conscience,  p.  137. — Immaturity  of  Social 
Ethics,  p.  139.— Relation  of  Ethics  to  Law.  p.  140. — 
The  Extension  of  the  Moral  Sphere  in  the  Individual  Life, 
p.  146. — Its  Extension  in  Social  Relations,  p.  148. — Need 
of  Transcending  the  Conventional  Conscience,  jj.  152. — 
Universality  of  Moral  Ideas  an  Unimportant  Question  as 
Commonly  Presented,  p.  153. — The  Universal  Elements  in 
Ethics,  p.  156. — The  Variations  in  Ethics  Like  Those  in 
Cognition,  p.  157. — The  Moral  Ideal  cannot  be  Exhaus- 
tively Defined  any  more  than  the  Rational  Ideal ;  yet  each 
is  the  Light  of  all  our  Seeing  in  its  own  Realm,  p.  158. 
— Application  of  Moral  Principles  Conditioned  by  our 
Mental  Concep'tions,  p  160. — Hence  Codes  must  Vary  with 
our  View  of  the  Meaning  and  Destiny  of  Life,  and  with 
Intellectual  Progress  in  General,  p.  160. 

Chapter  VI. 

MORAL   RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT   AND   DEMERIT.        164 

Freedom  Implicit  in  Responsibility,  p  164. — Plausibility  of 
the  Doctrine  of  Necessity  only  Superficial,  p.  164. — Em- 
barrassment of  Fatalistic  Ethics  in  Dealing  with  Respon- 
sibility and  Merit,  p.  165. — Difficulty  in  Measuring  Re- 
sponsibility, p.  168.— Meaning  of  Merit  and  Demerit,  p. 
171.— Theological  Denial  of  Merit,  p.  175.— Stoical  Par- 
adox lliat  there  are  no  Degrees  in  Good  or  Evil,  p.  176. — 
Sub- moral  Motives  in  Life  and  their  Necessity  as  Auxili- 
aries in  our  Moral  Development,  p.  179. — Uncertainty  of 
our  Judgments  of  Demerit,  p.  181. — Bearing  of  Sympathy 
on  our  Moral  Judgments,  p  182. — Punishment  Often 
Complicated  with  Questions  not  Properly  Ethical,  p.   187. 

Chapter  VII. 
ethics  and  religion.  .        .  188 

Is  Ethics  a  Self-sufficient  Science,  p.  188.— General  Tlieistic 
Implications  of  all  Rational  Theory,  p.  189. — The  Formal 


CONTENTS  XUl 

PAGE 

Principles  in  Ethics  and  the  Conceptions  which  Condition 
their  Application,  p.  190. — Dependence  of  Ethics  Es- 
pecially Manifest  in  tlie  Latter  Field,  p  lOJ?. — Man  as  Ac- 
tive Needs  some  Aims  to  Realize,  and  these  Depend  on 
our  Thouf^ht  of  the  Meaniuj?  and  Destinj"  of  Human  Life, 
p.  19-1. — The  Individual  Good  and  the  Common  Good  can- 
not he  Assvu-odly  Identified  without  Falliiifj;  Back  on  some 
Religious  Conception,  p.  197. — Tiie  Aluding  Truth  in 
Egoism,  p.  199. — Significance  of  Christianity  for  Ethics, 
p.  200. — This  Significance  Best  Seen  by  Contrasting  Chris- 
tianity with  Other  Systems  on  the  Nature  of  Man,  the 
Nature  of  the  Common  Good  and  the  Inspiration  of 
Duty,  p.  203. 

Chapter  VIII. 

ETHICS   OF   THE   INDIVIDUAL.        .  .    206 

The  Fruitful  Work  of  Ethics  Lies  not  in  Random  Casuistry, 
but  in  tlie  Study  and  Criticism  of  the  Great  Institutions 
of  Life  Itself,  p.  206.— Duties  to  Self  and  their  Relation 
to  Duties  to  Others,  p.  207. — Necessary  Incompleteness  of 
our  Codes,  and  the  Indeterminate  Nature  of  Moral  Prob- 
lems, p,  212. — Limitation  of  the  Discussion  to  Individual 
Rights,  p.  213.— Definition  of  Rights,  p.  2U.— Right  to 
Freedom,  p.  217. — Right  to  Property,  p.  218. — Limitation 
of  Property  Rights,  p.  220.— Right  to  Truth,  p.  221.— 
Limitation  of  this  Right,  p.  222. — Freedom  of  Contract, 
p  226. — Moral  Conditions  of  a  Binding  Contract,  i>.  227. 
— Unformulated  Rights,  p.  229. 

Chapter  IX. 

THE   ETHICS   OF   THE   FAMILY.      .  .231 

The  Family  as  Founded  in  Marriage,  p.  231. — Importance 
of  the  Family  as  a  Moral  Institution,  p.  23-2. — Marriage 
Distinguished  from  the  Analogous  Unions  in  the  ^Vnimal 
World,  p.  233. — Leading  Conditions  Demanded  by  the 
Ideal  of  Marriage,  p.  23-1. — Relation  of  Society  to  Mar- 
riage, p.  236. — Legal  Forms  of  Marriage  and  their  Mean- 


XIV  CONTENTS 

PAGE 

ing,  p.  236. — Divorce  and  its  Grounds,  p.  238. — Com- 
iiiiinity  of  Property  in  the  Family,  p.  240. — Division  of 
Labor  in  the  Family,  p.  241. — Suppo.sed  Authority  of  the 
Husband  over  the  Wife,  p  242 — Marriage  a  Failure  only 
when  the  Persons  Married  are  Failures,  p.  243. — Mutual 
Duties  of  Parents  and  Children  Independent  of  their 
Physical  Relations,  p.  244.  — Insufficiency  of  the  Family 
Life  for  a  Full  Mental  and  Moral  Development,  p.  246. 


Chapter  X. 

THE    ETHICS    OF   SOCIETY.  ,  .    247 

Society  Distinct  from  an  Aggregate  of  Individuals,  p.  247  — 
Necessity  for  a  Governing  Power,  p.  249.  —The  Social 
Order  no  Human  Invention  or  Product  of  Violence,  but 
a  Moral  Institution,  p.  251. — Instrumental  Character  of 
Society,  p  252. — Individuals  are  Born  in  Society,  and 
Society  Exists  for  Individuals  ;  Hence  the  Rights  of  Each 
must  be  Determined  with  Reference  to  those  of  the  Other, 
p.  252. — The  Line  between  the  Independence  of  the  In- 
dividual and  his  Subordination  to  Society  cannot  be 
Theoretically  Drawn,  p.  255. — The  Question  is  not  what 
Society  JMay  Do  but  what  it  Can  Wisely  Do,  p.  255. — 
Socialistic  Schemes  Pursue  a  Good  End  by  Unwise  Methods, 
p.  260. — The  Chief  Evils  of  Society  do  not  Admit  of  Cure 
by  Legal  Remedies,  p,  263.— Religious  Legislation,  p.  267. 
— Punitive  Action  of  Society,  p.  271. — The  Standpoint  of 
Abstract  Desert  Distinct  from  that  of  Human  Relations, 
p.  271. — From  the  Former,  Punishment  means  Retribu- 
tion, p.  272.  —But  this  Principle  is  of  Scanty  Use  from 
the  Human  Standpoint,  p.  273. — The  Aim  in  Social  Pvmi- 
tion  is  to  Defend  Rights  and  to  Make  the  Criminal  In- 
dustry Unprofitable,  p.  275. — Assumption  of  the  Function 
of  Punishment  by  Society,  p.  278. — Crimes  Amenable  to 
Society,  p.  279.— Theory  of  Government,  p.  281.— Un- 
fruitfulness  of  the  Claim  that  Power  is  from  God,  p.  281, 
—Obscurities  Left  by  the  Claim  that  the  People  are  the 
Source  of  Power,  p  282. — Equality  of  Political  Rights  an 
Ideal,  p.   282.— This  Equality  Necessarily  Limited,  p.  283. 


CONTENTS  XV 

PAGE 

— The  Moasiiro  of  Tjimitation  somewhat  Arljitrary,  p.  284. 
— Sex  uo  Grouucl  for  Limitation,  p.  2.S6. — Government 
should  always  bo  for  the  People,  but  Government  by  the 
People  Depends  for  its  Wisdom  on  the  People's  Develop- 
ment, p.  2S9. — Society  Has  no  Rif^ht  either  to  Commit, 
or  to  Remit  Sin,  p.  290. — Forms  of  Government  cannot 
be  Theoreticallj'  Determined,  p.  298. — Duties  to  the  Past 
and  the  Futm-e  cannot  be  Sharply  Defined,  p.  294. — Inter- 
national Ethics  Abstractly  Easy,  l)ut  Practically  often 
Difficult,  p.  290.— Use  and  Justification  of  War,  p.  300.— 
Nature  of  the  Church  as  a  Moral  Institution,  p.  301. 

CONCLUSION.         .        .         .   304 


PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 


INTRODUCTION 

Historically,  the  moral  life  did  not  begin  by- 
laying  down  general  principles  of  conduct,  but  by 
forming  codes  of  concrete  duties.  Duties  to  parents, 
children,  neighbors,  tribe,  etc.,  were  the  concrete 
forms  in  which  the  moral  nature  first  manifested 
itself,  and  in  which  also  it  still  finds  its  chief  expres- 
sion. In  this  respect  the  moral  life  is  the  analogue 
of  the  mental  life.  The  latter  also  did  not  begin 
with  abstract  speculative  principles,  or  with  theories 
of  knowledge,  but  with  specific  acts  of  knowing. 
In  both  alike  the  knowledge  of  principles  was  second 
and  not  first ;  and  in  both  alike  principles  were  im- 
plicit from  the  beginning. 

But  the  development  both  of  the  individual  Hfe 
and  of  historical  and  geograj^hical  knowledge  serves 
to  disturb  the  naive  and  instinctive  forms  with 
which  the  moral  life  begins.  Other  peoples  are  dis- 
covered with  customs  different  from  ours.  Eeflec- 
tion  also  serves  to  detect  many  arbitrary  or  incon- 
sistent features  in  prevailing  codes.  Conscience 
is  invoked  to  ratify  oppression,  superstition  and 
nonsense.     Finally,  experience  shows  that  the  right 


2  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

way  is  not  always  easily  or  immediately  discerned. 
Such  facts  lead  to  the  attempt  to  rationalize  our 
moral  experience  by  passing  behind  the  instinctive 
form  to  the  underlying  principle.  In  this  way  we 
hope  at  once  to  escape  the  scepticism  suggested  by 
conflicting  codes,  and  to  get  some  better  guidance 
for  life  itself. 

In  this  respect  also  the  moral  life  is  the  analogue 
of  the  mental  life.  In  the  mental  world  vast  dis- 
cords are  revealed  by  observation;  and  reflection 
detects  not  a  few  in  the  spontaneous  utterances  of 
thought  itself.  Here  too  a  work  of  analysis  and 
elimination  has  to  be  undertaken  with  the  aim  of 
reducing  the  discord  by  detecting  the  implicit  prin- 
ciples and  the  underlying  harmony. 

Ethical  study  may  take  several  directions: 
1.  We  may  study  the  genesis  and  development  of 
moral  ideas  and  of  practical  codes.  This  genesis 
might  be  studied  either  in  the  development  of  the 
individual,  or  in  the  larger  field  of  history.  We 
might  see  moral  ideas  emerging  in  the  unfolding  of 
individual  consciousness,  or  in  the  moral  progress 
of  the  race.  Such  a  study  might  reveal  a  certain 
order  of  succession  in  the  ajDpearance  of  moral  con- 
ceptions, and  also  certain  psychological  and  histori- 
cal conditions  of  the  same.  This  field  of  inquiry 
has  been  much  cultivated  in  ethical  literature,  but, 
unfortunately,  too  often  under  the  influence  of  the 
fancy  that  the  worth  and  validity  of  moral  ideas  can 
be  determined  thereby.  This  mistake  has  led  to  a 
great  deal  of  misdirected  effort  and  irrelevant  dis- 


INTRODUCTION  3 

cussion.  The  history  of  the  genesis  and  emergence 
of  an  idea  is  one  thing;  its  validity  is  quite  another. 
The  logical  value  of  chemistry  cannot  be  decided  by 
reciting  its  beginnings  in  alchemy ;  and  the  logical 
value  of  astronomy  is  independent  of  the  fact  that 
it  began  in  astrology, 

2.  We  may  study  the  psychological  faculties 
concerned  in  the  production  of  moral  ideas,  the 
nature  of  conscience,  the  relation  of  desire  and  will, 
and  of  reason  and  sensibility.  This  field  also  has 
been  much  cultivated ;  and  works  on  ethics  abound 
in  theories  of  the  moral  sentiments  and  the  moral 
faculty.  This  work  is  purely  psychological,  and, 
except  negatively,  is  barren  for  ethics  proper.  Its 
negative  bearing  consists  in  the  fact  that  these 
theories  are  often  advanced  in  the  interests  of  moral 
scepticism,  or  as  apologies  for  vice. 

These  two  inquiries  comprise  almost  the  whole  of 
English  ethical  literature.  Theories  of  the  moral 
faculties,  and  geneses,  real  or  alleged,  of  moral 
ideas  make  up  the  gist  of  it.  In  the  search  for  ori- 
gins even  the  brute  world  has  been  sharply  scanned ; 
and  the  bearing  of  flogged  curs  has  been  invested 
with  deep  significance. 

3.  We  may  study  our  moral  ideas  in  themselves, 
and  seek  to  unfold  their  postulates  and  implications. 
This  would  give  us  the  theory  of  ethics,  or,  as  it  has 
been  called,  the  metaphysics  of  ethics. 

4.  We  may  apply  the  theory  thus  reached,  or 
assumed,  to  the  construction  of  a  concrete  code  of 
conduct.  Having  first  inquired  what  principles 
should  rule  us  as  moral  beings,  w^e  next  inquire 


4  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

what  forms  of  conduct  these  principles  prescribe  in 
the  circumstances  of  actual  life.  These  two  in- 
quiries cover  the  field  of  ethics  proper. 

5.  We  may  consider  the  relation  of  man  to  the 
ideal  of  conduct,  the  obstacles  in  human  nature  to 
the  realizing  of  the  moral  ideal,  and  the  ways 
and  means  of  bringing  men  into  harmony  with  the 
ideal.  It  is  in  this  field  that  our  great  practical 
difficulties  lie.  After  having  unfolded  the  ideals  of 
character  and  conduct  we  find  men  practically  in- 
different to  them.  Then  we  have  to  begin  the  study 
of  moral  and  spiritual  d}Tiamics.  The  chief  studies 
in  this  field  have  been  made  in  connection  with 
Christian  doctrine  and  life. 

These  several  questions  should  always  be  kept 
distinct  in  thought  and  generally  in  treatment. 
Their  confusion  is  the  great  source  of  the  barren 
logomachies  which  have  so  long  desolated  ethical 
literature.  In  the  following  discussion  our  main 
concern  will  be  with  ethical  theory,  not,  however, 
without  some  side  glances  into  the  other  fields. 

The  question  concerning  the  origin  of  moral  ideas 
is  irrelevant  to  our  present  aim ;  but  it  has  so  gene- 
rally been  supposed  to  be  the  great  question  of 
ethics  that  a  word  must  be  devoted  to  it.  The  Eng- 
lish moralists  have  generally  confused  the  question 
of  origin  with  that  of  validity,  and  have  produced 
not  a  litlJe  misunderstanding  and  waste  of  effort. 
Divers  analyses,  deductions,  and  histories  of  moral 
ideas  have  been  offered,  in  which  the  aim  has  been, 
on  the  one  hand,  to  reduce  them  to  something  else, 


INTRODUCTION  5 

and,  on  tlie  other,  to  show  that  they  are  primitive 
and  irreducible.  In  both  cases  the  aim  is  ethically 
irrelevant,  and  in  the  former  case  it  is  a  failure. 
A  system  of  ethics,  like  a  system  of  mathematics, 
has  not  to  inquire  into  the  origin  of  the  ideas  with 
which  it  works,  but  only  into  their  meaning  and 
implications.  In  both  cases  the  ideas  are  valid,  if 
at  all,  not  by  virtue  of  a  peculiar  genesis,  but  be- 
cause of  the  evidence  with  which  they  appeal  to  the 
mind  as  it  now  is.  When  a  received  doctrine  is 
seen  to  be  false,  we  can  understand  its  prevalence 
by  considering  the  circumstances  of  its  origin ;  and 
when  a  doctrine  is  seen  to  be  true,  there  is  an  inter- 
est attaching  to  the  history  of  its  development ;  but 
in  neither  case  can  we  use  the  history  as  either 
proof  or  disproof  without  assuming  that  the  worth 
of  an  idea  is  compatible  with  only  a  given  form  of 
psychological  genesis  and  history. 

To  understand  the  prevalence  of  the  error  in  ques- 
tion in  English  ethics,  we  must  note  its  source  in 
English  psychology.  This  psychology,  which  has 
been  largely  sensationalism,  has  sought  to  deduce 
our  rational  ideas  and  powers  from  sensations  and 
the  sensibility.  Assuming  the  latter  \vith  the  laws 
of  association,  it  has  claimed  to  exhibit  the  former 
as  their  product.  That  the  rational  ideas  are  con- 
ditioned by  the  sense  experience  and  are  sequent  to 
it,  is  unquestioned  by  any  one ;  and  that  experience 
shows  a  successive  order  of  manifestation  is  equally 
undoubted.  But  the  sensationalist  has  always 
shown  a  curious  blindness  to  the  ambiguity  of  such 
a  fact.     He  will  have  it  that  what  comes  after  must 


6  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

be  a  modification  of  what  went  before ;  whereas  it 
might  be  that,  and  it  might  be  a  new,  though  con- 
ditioned, manifestation  of  an  immanent  nature  or 
law.  Chemical  affinity  is  not  gravity,  although 
affinity  cannot  manifest  itself  until  gravity  has 
brought  the  elements  into  certain  relations. 

In  addition  to  this  oversight,  there  is  a  chronic 
uncertainty  in  sensationalism  whether  the  sensa- 
tions are  really  transformed  into  something  else,  or 
whether  they  remain  essentially  on  the  sensational 
plane.  Both  views  are  absurd.  A  sensation  is  no 
self-identical  thing,  or  stuff,  which  admits  of  formal 
modifications  without  change  of  nature.  It  is  rather 
a  mental  state,  or  phase  of  the  sensibility;  and 
when  it  changes,  nothing  is  transformed  and  noth- 
ing abides.  The  abiding  stuff  here  is  only  the 
shadow  of  the  formal  law  of  identity,  according  to 
which  every  object  of  thought  is  given  a  self -identi- 
cal content.  In  reality  we  might  as  well  look  for 
a  transformed  identity  in  a  case  of  variable  motion, 
or  in  a  changing  musical  note.  To  conceive  sensa- 
tions as  a  kind  of  atomic  substance  is  a  full-blown 
absurdity;  and  when  this  is  not  done,  we  have 
simply  an  order  of  movement  according  to  law. 
But  this  law  finds  full  expression  in  no  antecedent 
or  set  of  antecedents,  but  only  in  all  antecedents  and 
consequents  taken  together.  For  no  being  subject 
to  development  can  be  defined  merely  by  what  it 
is ;  we  have  also  to  include  what  it  is  to  be. 

Having  thus  victoriously  deduced  the  rational 
nature,  sensationalism  proceeded  to  deduce  the  moral 
nature  also.     The  process  was  ruled  by  the  implicit 


INTRODUCTION  7 

assumption,  which  sometimes  became  explicit,  that 
the  lower  elements  which  were  the  raw  material  of 
the  process  continued  unchanged  in  their  combina- 
tions. These  elements  consisted  mainly  of  physical 
pains  and  pleasures  and  the  lower  egoistic  senti- 
ments. Out  of  these,  the  moral  nature  and  moral 
ideas  and  sentiments  were  built  up.  But  as  the 
components  were  supposed  to  be  unchanged  in  the 
compound,  the  baseness  of  the  material  affected 
the  product,  and  the  moral  nature  was  made  to  ap- 
pear as  of  the  earth  earthy.  Hence  arose  not  a  little 
moral  scepticism ;  and  hence,  again,  the  prominence 
of  the  question  concerning  the  origin  of  moral  ideas 
in  English  ethical  speculation.  It  was  supposed 
that  ethics  could  be  saved  only  by  discovering  a 
moral  faculty,  or  a  moral  sense,  or  some  other  psy- 
chological fact. 

Eelics  of  the  same  conviction  appear  in  the  joy  or 
horror  felt  at  the  appearance  of  the  doctrine  of  evo- 
lution in  ethics.  Here  the  law  of  identity  plays  one 
of  its  best  tricks  upon  us.  We  begin  with  the 
brute,  and  assume  that  it  is  only  brute.  Then  we 
discover  progress,  and  as  evolution  is  the  word,  we 
view  the  advance  as  the  product  of  the  brute  con- 
dition, and  hence  as  brute  itself.  How  that  which 
is  essentially  and  only  brute  can  become  anything 
else,  or  how  the  brute  which  has  transcended  itself 
still  remains  the  identical  brute — these  questions 
are  undreamed  of.  Both  assumptions  involve  a 
contradiction.  In  the  former  case,  we  affirm  a 
groundless  development ;  and  in  the  latter  case,  we 
deny  the  development  while  affirming  it.     Either 


8  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

we  have  a  groundless  change  in  the  identity,  or  a 
contradictory  identity  in  the  change. 

To  illustrate:  suppose  we  have  a  being  whose 
nature  provides  only  for  selfish  impulses ;  the  prob- 
lem is  to  turn  him  into  an  unselfish  being.  As  long 
as  we  assume  that  the  nature  is  exhausted  in  selfish 
desire  and  impulse,  there  is  no  movement  possible. 
We  may  endow  him  with  great  insight,  so  that  he 
shall  see  that  others  are  necessary  to  his  well-being 
and  shall  thus  be  led  into  unselfish  action.  But 
here  the  unselfishness  is  only  in  form ;  it  is  action 
upon  others,  but  always  with  a  selfish  reference. 
It  is  the  unselfishness  of  the  farmer  who  takes  care 
of  his  cattle,  feeding  and  housing  them  well,  yet 
always  with  an  eye  to  the  market.  It  is  prudent 
selfishness;  and  our  theory  provides  for  nothing 
more. 

But  if  we  suppose  that  the  transformation  has 
really  been  made,  no  matter  by  what  logical  and 
psychological  hocus-pocus,  then  we  must  not  view 
our  unselfishness  as  really  disguised  selfishness,  for 
that  is  contrary  to  the  hypothesis.  The  selfishness  is 
supposed  to  have  been  transformed,  and  hence  exists 
no  longer  as  selfishness.  The  unselfishness  is  to  be 
understood  and  estimated  on  its  own  account,  and 
is  not  to  be  branded  as  base  because  of  its  antece- 
dents.    To  do  this  is  to  deny  the  transformation. 

The  formal  law  of  identity  leads  to  the  fancy  of 
an  abiding  stuff  in  sensation  which  remains  un- 
changed throughout  all  its  alleged  changes.  The 
failure  to  see  that  a  developing  thing  cannot  be 
adequately  expressed  by  its  early  stage  of  develop- 


INTRODUCTION  9 

ment,  but  only  by  all  that  toward  which  it  is  develop- 
ing, leads  to  the  fancy  that  that  which  is  essen- 
tially and  only  brute  can  yet  in  some  way  transcend 
the  brute  condition.  The  fancy  itself  is  ambiguously 
held.  Sometimes  the  brute  gives  birth  to  some- 
thing beyond  itself ;  and  sometimes  its  products  are 
all  classified  as  brute  because  of  their  brute  origin- 
The  illusion  is  completed  by  the  fallacy  of  the  uni- 
versal. The  plurality  and  differences  of  things  dis- 
appear in  the  unity  and  monotony  of  the  class 
term.  Then  it  is  easy  to  suppose  that  things  have 
been  identified,  and  that  the  class  term  represents  a 
simple  homogeneous  existence  from  which  particular 
things  have  sprung.  Sensationalism  is  largely  a 
case  of  this  fallacy ;  and  in  this  case  the  fallacy  is 
manifold.  When  all  mental  states  are  declared  to 
be  phases  of  sensation,  we  fancy  forthwith  that  we 
have  identified  the  states  and  have  reached  their 
original  source.  In  fact,  however,  classification 
makes  no  identity  and  cancels  no  difference,  w^hile 
class  terms  represent  no  possible  existence  but  only 
a  common  name  for  a  multitude  of  particular  facts 
each  of  which  is  what  it  is  on  its  own  account. 
Cows  and  horses  are  not  identified  by  being  called 
animals,  nor  is  there  any  animal  in  general  from 
which  cows  and  horses  may  be  deduced.  In  like 
manner,  mental  states  are  not  identified  by  classing 
them  as  sensations ;  nor  is  there  any  primal  men- 
tal element,  sensation  in  general,  from  which  all 
other  mental  facts  are  deduced.  This  sensation  in 
general  is  an  abstraction  of  logic  and  not  a  fact  of 
existence.     The  fact  of  sense  experience  is  a  multi- 


10  PRINCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

tude  of  particular  sensations  of  color,  odor,  warmth, 
etc. ;  and  from  these  none  could  think  of  deduc- 
ing anything  beyond  themselves.  But  sensation 
in  general,  because  it  is  nothing  in  particular  and 
because  it  can  be  applied  to  any  number  of  unlike 
things,  is  supposed  to  contain  them  all,  and  to  be 
ready  at  a  minute's  notice  to  evolve  them.  Both 
the  identification  and  the  evolution  are  purely  ver- 
bal. The  same  remark  applies  to  the  notable  dis- 
covery of  some  biological  moralists  that  egoism  and 
altruism  are  elaborations  respectively  of  the  physio- 
logical instinct  of  nutrition  and  of  propagation. 

We  return  from  this  critical  excursion  with  several 
convictions  as  follows: 

1.  The  pretended  deduction  of  moral  ideas  from 
non-moral  data  is  purely  verbal  and  fictitious. 

2.  The  pretended  reduction  of  moral  ideas  to  non- 
moral  elements  is  likewise  purely  verbal  and  ficti- 
tious. 

3.  The  actual  order  of  graded  development  in  the 
mental  life  cannot  be  understood  as  a  modification 
of  its  earliest  phases,  but  only  as  the  successive 
manifestation  of  a  law  immanent  in  the  whole  de- 
velopment. 

4.  No  psychological  theory  concerning  the  origin 
and  genesis  of  our  ideas,  moral  or  otherwise,  can  be 
used  as  a  test  of  truth,  or  as  a  method  of  discovery, 
at  least  so  long  as  the  general  trustworthiness  of 
reason  is  allowed. 

The  last  point  deserves  consideration  by  both  of 
the  leading  schools  of  psychology.     A  logical  sensa- 


INTRODUCTION  11 

tionalism  might  indeed  be  incompatible  with  reason ; 
in  which  case  reason  would  not  have  to  surrender  to 
sensationalism,  but  rather  sensationalism  would  be 
condemned  by  reason.  But  so  long  as  the  sensa- 
tionalist does  not  play  the  part  of  the  sceptic,  he 
can  make  no  use  of  his  theory  of  mental  origins  in 
rational  investigation.  There  is  one  logic  and  one 
scientific  method  for  all.  Positive  truth  must 
always  depend  upon  the  matter  itself  and  the  reasons 
offered  for  it ;  and  the  court  of  appeal  must  always 
be  our  actual  mental  insight.  It  is  plain  that  we 
have  to  use  such  faculties  as  we  have,  and  any 
dreams  about  things  revealed  unto  babes  or  to  still 
earlier  links  in  the  chain  of  development  are  quite 
irrelevant.  Especially  is  the  evolutionist  precluded 
from  appealing  from  the  present  insight  of  reason ; 
for,  by  hypothesis,  that  insight  is  the  result  of  an 
educative  process  reaching  through  the  life  of  the 
race.  And  as  we  are  supposed  to  be  developing 
faculty,  power,  knowledge,  of  course  our  faculties 
are  most  trustworthy  in  their  latest  stage ;  for  in 
this  stage  they  have  had  the  fullest  drill  of  experi- 
ence, individual  and  racial,  and  the  longest  sifting 
by  that  natural  selection  whose  special  function  it  is 
to  separate  the  false  from  the  true.  If,  then,  in 
hunting  up  our  genealogical  record  we  should  come 
upon  sub-human  ancestors  of  arboreal  habits,  we 
should  have  no  occasion,  as  philosophers,  to  be 
startled,  or  to  tremble  for  the  validity  of  the  multi- 
plication table,  or  of  the  Golden  Rule. 

But  the  intuitionist  is  as  badly  off  in  this  matter 
as  the  empiricist ;  for  he,  too,  can  make  no  use  of 


12  PRINCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

his  theory  of  innate  ideas  as  a  test  of  truth.  The 
theory  of  an  innate  mathematical  faculty  could  not 
be  used  as  an  instrument  of  mathematical  study; 
and  if  we  had  such  a  faculty,  the  truth  of  its  utter- 
ances would  still  remain  an  open  question.  It  is 
by  no  means  self-evident  that  the  innate  must  be 
true ;  indeed,  the  most  formidable  scepticism  in  the 
history  of  thought  has  been  based  on  the  assump- 
tion of  apriori  mental  forms  which,  while  they 
determine  thought,  so  mask  the  object  that  we  can 
never  know  it  as  it  is. 

The  sum  is  this:  All  investigation  pre-supposes  a 
certain  insight  on  the  part  of  the  mind,  no  matter 
whether  original  or  acquired ;  and  that  insight  must 
be  the  final  court  of  appeal.  Nor  is  that  insight  in 
any  way  affected  by  theories  as  to  the  faculty  from 
which  it  springs.  The  insight  is  not  deduced  from 
the  faculty ;  but  the  faculty  is  invented  to  explain 
the  insight.  So  far  as  ethical  theory  is  concerned, 
there  could  be  no  more  barren  search  started  than 
that  for  the  faculty  on  which  moral  insight  rests. 
Call  it  feeling,  moral  sense,  moral  reason,  and  still 
the  debate  touches  only  the  psychological  classifica- 
tion, and  in  no  way  affects  the  logical  standing  of 
the  matter  in  question.  Classification  leaves  the 
fact  just  what  it  was.  As  already  said,  it  produces 
no  identity  and  cancels  no  difference. 

We  can,  then,  understand  the  prominence  in 
English  ethics  of  the  question  concerning  the  origin 
of  our  moral  ideas.  A  false  psychology  started 
false  issues,  and  these  were  met  by  irrelevant  logic. 
The  blind  led  the  blind  with  the  usual  result.     We 


INTRODUCTION  13 

rule  out  the  inquiry  as  having  only  a  psychological 
interest,  and  as  furnishing  no  guide  in  moral  theory. 
If  we  have  moral  insight,  it  is  no  matter  how  we 
get  it ;  and  if  we  have  no  such  insight,  there  is  no 
help  in  any  psychological  theory. 

In  studying  the  literature  of  ethics,  one  is  struck 
by  the  variety  and  discord  of  the  views  presented. 
This  is  due  partly  to  the  complexity  of  life  itself, 
and  partly  to  differences  of  psychology  and  philoso- 
phy. Human  nature  itself  is  manifold,  and  life 
has  many  springs.  Our  action  as  a  whole  involves 
two  general  aims,  to  secure  outward  happiness  and 
fortune,  and  to  attain  to  inward  worth  and  peace. 
In  the  former  aim  our  success  depends  upon  a 
variety  of  laws,  physical,  social,  and  psychological. 
Here  we  use  our  knowledge,  skill,  sagacity,  experi- 
ence. The  realization  of  the  second  aim  depends 
upon  the  attitude  of  our  will  toward  our  ideal  of  life 
and  action.  Any  complete  view  of  life  must  recog- 
nize both  of  these  aims,  but  they  have  often  been 
held  apart.  Hence  there  have  been  systems  of 
ethics  which  looked  only  to  external  fortune  and 
happiness.  Such  systems  are  systems  of  prudence 
only;  and  their  typical  saint  is  the  long-headed 
and  shrewd.  In  such  an  outcome,  men  miss  the 
innermost  essence  of  morality,  the  holy  will  and 
character,  altogether.  On  the  other  hand,  the 
search  for  inner  worth  and  peace  has  often  gone  on 
in  unwholesome  abstraction  from  the  world  of  out- 
ward life,  thus  producing  a  false,  and  often  unspeak- 
ably pernicious,  separation  between  the  ''  worldly  " 


14  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

and  the  moral  life.  This  separation  is  as  untenable 
in  theory  as  it  is  odious  in  j^ractice.  Not  only  must 
life  be  adjusted  to  an  inner  ideal,  it  must  also  con- 
form to  the  outer  world  of  things  and  law. 

The  actual  man  recognizes  many  principles  of  ac- 
tion. We  have  a  physical  side  to  our  nature,  and  the 
healthy,  natural  man  believes  in  a  healthy  animal- 
ism. He  believes  also  in  both  virtue  and  happiness, 
in  both  egoism  and  altruism.  He  believes  in  the 
life  that  now  is,  and  is  not  without  some  faith  in 
the  life  to  come.  He  acts  upon  all  of  these  princi- 
ples within  certain  indefinite  limits,  and  in  litera- 
ture he  has  recorded  his  spontaneous  convictions 
concerning  them.  Now  this  complex  practical  con- 
sciousness, as  it  may  be  called,  is  the  raw  material 
of  ethical  theory.  Ethics  aims  to  find  and  formu- 
late the  principles  which  underlie  practice  in  order 
that  we  may  better  understand  and  guide  our  lives. 
But  ethics,  in  its  speculative  desire  for  unity,  has 
generally  ignored  the  complexity  of  the  problem 
and  sought  to  reduce  everything  to  one  principle. 
Thus  have  arisen  many  schools  with  many  modifica- 
tions of  each. 

1.  The  virtue  and  the  happiness  school.  The 
former  fixes  its  attention  on  the  inner  worth  and 
peace  of  the  agent,  and  ignores  outward  fortune 
and  happiness  as  aims  of  conduct.  Sometimes  it 
despises  them,  as  in  the  case  of  the  Cynics  and 
Stoics,  but  more  frequently  overlooks  them  as  some- 
thing with  which  ethics  has  nothing  to  do.  This 
is  the  case  with  most  current  intuitional  systems. 

The  happiness  school  looks  to  pleasure  of  some 


INTRODUCTION  15 

kind  as  the  only  rational  end  of  action,  and  takes 
account  of  virtue  only  as  a  means  to  happiness. 
This  school  may  vary  all  the  way  from  a  coarse 
animalism  to  the  most  refined  forms  of  utilita- 
rianism. 

2.  The  egoistic  and  benevolent  schools.  The  for- 
mer holds  that  our  own  welfare  must  be  our  aim, 
and  is  commonly  called  the  selfish  school.  This 
view  is  generally  based  upon  an  apriori  theory  of 
action  which  makes  a  desire  for  pleasure  the  only 
possible  spring  of  action ;  and  as  this  pleasure  can 
only  be  that  of  the  agent  himself,  the  theory  neces- 
sarily issues  in  selfishness.  Of  course,  no  one  could 
pretend  that  all  action  is  formally  and  consciously 
selfish,  and  hence  it  became  necessary  to  provide 
for  the  apparently  altruistic  duties  which  no  system 
can  help  recognizing.  This  was  effected  either  by 
assumption  or  by  logical  violence.  The  second  school 
makes  the  good  of  others  the  aim  of  action.  In  its 
revolt  against  the  selfish  theory,  this  school  has 
sometimes  gone  to  the  absurd  length  of  allowing 
self-interest  no  rights  whatever.  Both  of  these 
schools  may  take  on  different  forms  as  the  aim  of 
life  is  differently  conceived.  The  egoistic  aim  might 
conceivably  be  a  sensual  gratification,  or  a  self-per-  • 
fecting,  or  an  intellectual  good,  etc.  In  history, 
however,  it  has  largely  appeared  as  the  sensual 
school.  Similar  modifications  are  possible  in  the 
benevolent  school. 

3.  A  division  of  schools  may  arise  also  from  our 
psychology.  Thus,  the  mind  may  be  supposed  to 
have  direct  insight  into  moral  principles  or  the  true 


16  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

end  of  action.  This  view  leads  to  the  intuitional 
school  of  ethics.  In  this  school  the  mind  is  supposed 
to  see  intuitively  that  certain  acts,  or  principles,  or 
motives  are  right ;  but  there  is  no  agreement  whether 
the  intuition  attaches  to  the  act,  the  princij^le,  or  the 
motive.  The  only  thing  that  is  sure  is  that  there 
is  an  intuition  of  something  somewhere.  The  em- 
pirical school  sujDposes  that  the  mind  has  no  original 
insight,  but  learns  by  experience  to  distinguish  right 
from  wrong,  consequences  being  the  final  test. 

4.  Out  of  this  distinction  arises  another  difference. 
The  morality  of  an  act  is  supposed,  on  the  one  side, 
to  attach  to  the  motive  or  intention  of  the  doer,  and, 
to  be  independent  of  consequences  altogether.  The 
opposite  view  is  that  it  attaches  solely  to  the  conse- 
quences and  is  independent  of  the  doer  altogether. 
Neither  view  furnishes  a  working  theory  of  ethics, 
and  each  leads  to  its  special  one-sidedness.  The 
former  tries  to  study  character  apart  from  conduct ; 
and  the  latter  tries  to  study  conduct  apart  from 
character.  No  adequate  theory  of  life  is  jDOSsible 
on  either  view. 

5.  Again  we  may  consider  the  system  of  ethical 
truth  and  take  no  account  of  its  realization  in  con- 
duct. This  limitation  has  often  led  to  the  claim 
that  freedom  has  no  significance  for  ethics.  Thus, 
Schleiermacher  declares  that  we  should  not  think 
differently  of  right  and  wrong,  of  virtue  or  vice, 
if  freedom  were  denied.  If  the  bad  is  bad  by  neces- 
sity, it  is  still  bad ;  just  as  the  ugly  by  necessity  is 
still  ugly.  Others,  again,  as  Kant,  insist  that  ethics 
depends    on   freedom.     These    claims    arise    from 


INTRODUCTION  17 

different  points  of  view.  Freedom  has  no  special 
significance  for  ethics  as  a  system  of  moral  judg- 
ments, any  more  than  it  has  for  aesthetic  judgments 
or  logical  judgments.  But  freedom  has  absolute 
significance  for  ethics  as  a  system  of  precepts  where 
obedience  is  reckoned  as  duty  and  merit,  and  dis- 
obedience as  sin  and  demerit.  It  has  equal  signifi- 
cance for  our  judgments  of  the  responsibility  and 
desert  of  persons.  Of  course,  freedom  has  no  signi- 
ficance for  ethical  systems  which  simply  study  the 
dynamics  of  the  desires  and  passions,  and  reduce 
conduct  to  a  mechanical  resultant  of  its  antecedents. 
But,  from  narrowness  of  vision,  these  affirmations 
and  denials,  which  are  true  for  ethics  only  in  a 
special  sense,  are  both  made  and  understood  in  a 
general  sense,  and  the  result  is  the  barren  logomachy 
with  which  the  student  is  so  well  acquainted. 

C.  The  relation  of  ethics  to  metaphysics,  or  to  our 
general  theory  of  things,  is  variously  conceived. 
Some  deny  all  relation ;  others  afiirm  dependence. 
Both  views  are  true  according  to  our  standpoint. 
Ethics  begins  independently,  but  must  finally  be 
affected  by  our  metaphysics.  Speculation  does  not 
have  the  function  of  generating  our  moral  judg- 
ments, but  of  adjusting  them  to  our  total  intellec- 
tual system.  In  this  adjustment,  the  dependence 
of  ethics  on  metaphysics  appears.  The  connection 
is  the  same  as  in  the  theory  of  knowledge.  Here 
we  begin  with  trust  in  consciousness  as  a  necessary 
starting-point,  but  at  the  same  time  we  are  under 
obligation  to  reach  theistic  conclusions  to  prevent 

collapse.     So  in  ethics  we  begin  with  trust  in  our 
2 


18  PRINCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

ethical  consciousness;  but  in  the  totality  of  our 
theorizing  we  may  react  conclusions  incompatible 
with  that  primal  trust.  In  that  case,  either  the 
trust  or  the  incompatible  theory  would  have  to  be 
modified. 

T.  Another  source  of  variation  in  ethical  theory 
is  found  in  the  fact  that  in  daily  life  duty  is  largely 
conceived  in  connection  with  religion.  Thus  ethical 
truth  takes  on  a  religious  character ;  and  this  fact 
has  greatly  modified  ethical  theory,  sometimes  fav- 
orably and  sometimes  very  unfavorably.  In  the 
form  of  Christian  ethics,  the  attempt  is  made  to 
discuss  the  entire  subject  from  the  stand j)oint  of 
Christian  teaching. 

8.  Again,  systems  of  necessity  have  also  produced 
so-called  ethical  systems.  These  have  generally 
aimed  to  present  the  system  of  conduct  as  a  fact,  as 
an  outcome  of  antecedents  rather  than  a  system  of 
ideal  aims.  We  may  inquire  into  the  motive  forces 
of  life  and  describe  them.  In  this  way  an  alleged 
dynamics  of  the  appetites,  passions,  and  desires  may 
be  elaborated,  and  conduct  may  be  exhibited  as  a 
necessary  result.  Such  a  system  is  ethics  only  by 
courtesy,  though  more  generally  by  the  grace  of 
thoughtlessness.  Ethics  is  defined  as  the  science  of 
conduct;  and  the  conventions  of  language  are  relied 
upon  to  cover  up  the  fact  that  there  is  no  "  conduct  " 
in  the  case.  If  man  be  a  proper  automaton,  we 
might  as  well  speak  of  the  conduct  of  the  winds  as 
of  human  conduct;  and  a  treatise  on  planetary 
motions  is  as  truly  the  ethics  of  the  solar  system  as 
a  treatise  on  human  movements  is  the  ethics  of 


INTRODUCTION  19 

man.  Just  now  this  general  doctrine  especially 
affects  a  biological  form;  and  biological  ethics  is 
the  order  of  the  day. 

These  distinctions  might  be  pursued  still  further, 
but  without  advantage.  The  leading  lines  of  ethical 
division  have  been  pointed  out.  Their  origin  is  to 
be  found  in  the  complexity  of  life  itself  and  in  the 
possibility  of  viewing  it  from  many  sides.  Psycho- 
logical and  metaphysical  differences  also  come  in. 
Theology  and  religion  are  not  without  their  influ- 
ence. Sometimes  the  field  of  ethics  is  arbitrarily 
limited,  and  sometimes  the  name  and  language  of 
ethics  are  stolen  outright  to  express  the  movements 
of  alleged  automata.  But  in  this  strife  and  confu- 
sion of  theory,  the  practical  life  of  man  with  its 
implicit  moral  principles  remains.  This  is  the  raw 
material  of  all  theory,  and  by  its  adequacy  to  ex- 
press this  life  every  theory  must  finally  be  judged. 
If  this  life  be  strong  within  us,  we  may  even  contrive 
to  get  on  without  a  theory ;  and  if  it  be  lacking,  we 
are  lost  whatever  our  theory. 

The  aim  in  the  following  discussion  is  not  to  build 
up  a  completed  ethical  system,  but  by  a  critical 
study  to  enable  the  reader  to  discern  the  outlines 
of  ethical  truth  and  the  principles  which  underlie 
conduct. 


CHAPTER   I 

FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER 

("  SCHLEIERMACHER  has  shown  that  there  are  three 
leading  moral  ideas,  the  good,  duty,  and  virtue) 
Each  of  these  is  essential  in  a  system  which  is  to 
express  the  complete  moral  consciousness  of  the  race. 
Where  there  is  no  good  to  be  reached  by  action, 
there  can  be  no  rational  duty,  and  with  the  notion  of 
duty  vanishes  also  that  of  virtue.  Again,  where 
there  is  no  sense  of  duty  but  only  a  calculation  of 
consequences,  we  have  merely  a  system  of  prudence. 
This  may  be  good  enough  in  its  way,  but  it  lacks 
moral  quality.  Such  conduct  may  be  natural  and 
allowable,  but  it  is  not  regarded  as  virtuous.  For 
in  such  conduct  we  miss  all  reference  to  the  moral 
agent.  It  is  a  matter  of  wit  and  shrewdness  only, 
and  is  not  a  manifestation  of  virtuous  character. 

The  three  ideas  are  alike  necessary,  but,  histori- 
cally, there  has  been  a  tendency  to  recognize  some 
one  of  these  ideas  and  ignore  the  others.  Zln  much 
ancient  ethics  the  idea  of  the  good  was  fundamental/ 
and  the  attempt  was  made  to  build  up  a  system  of 
ethics  on  this  foundation.  tDf  course  a  definition  of 
good  and  of  the  chief  good  was  necessary,  and  avast 
deal  of  unedifying  speculation  resulted.  ^Some 
found  the  good  in  pleasure,^,  others  in  an  indifference 

to  pleasure,  and  others  again  in  a  rational  life  with 

^  20 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    21 

happiness  or  well-being  as  its  necessary  concomitant) 
Tlie  rule  of  life  was  laid  down  in  such  empty  for- 
malisms as,  "  Live  accprding  to  nature,"  or  "  Follow 
the  golden  mean."  (Jhis  general  scheme  of  ethical 
thought  may  be  called  the  goods  ethics,  or  the  hap- 
piness ethics^ (  All  its  forms  agree  in  finding  the 
reason  and  obligation  of  action  in  the  end,  conceived 
as  a  good,  to  which  action  is  directed^  In  modern 
times  this  view  generally  appears  as  utilitarianism. 
Not  infrequently  through  failure  to  emphasize  the 
notion  of  duty,  this  view  becomes  simply  a  system 
of  calculating  prudence  and  practical  shrewdness, 
and  falls  below  the  moral  plane  altogether. 

The  vagueness  and  one-sideness  of  this  view,  to- 
gether with  sundry  unsavory  inferences  often  drawn 
from  it,  led  to  a  very  general  desire  to  make  the 
notion  of  duty,  or  obligation,  basal,  ^here  are  cer- 
tain principles  of  conduct  which  ought  to  rule  our 
action.  Such  are  justice,  good-will,  truthfulness, 
etc.  To  discover  these  we  need  enter  upon  no 
speculation  about  the  chief  good.  They  stand  in 
their  own  right,  and  their  obligation  is  intuitively 
discernem  p/Ve  know  that  there  is  duty,  and  gen- 
erally it  is  not  difficult  to  tell  what  it  is  i  while  we 
know  very  little  about  the  chief  good.  So  far  from 
deducing  the  idea  of  duty  from  the  notion  of  the 
good,  we  have  to  determine  the  content  of  the  good 
in  accordance  with  our  conception  of  dut}^  This 
general  view  may  be  called  the  duty  ethica 

The  doctrine  thus  outlined  is  tha^  of  most  intui- 
tionists,  and  especially  of  Kant,  ^uty  is  the  first 
fact,  and  is  a  categorical  imperative.     It  gives  no 


22  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

reasons  offers  no  rewards,  but  declares,  Thou  shalt, 
or,  Thou  shalt  not7>  (So  far  as  the  expression  of  the 
actual  moral  consciousness  is  concerned,  there  can 
be  no  doubt  that  this  view  is  much  nearer  the  fact 
than  the  previous  one.  In  the  average  moral  life, 
the  most  prominent  element  is  a  sense  of  something 
to  be  done,  of  law  to  be  obeyed,  rather  than  an  expec- 
tation of  goods  to  be  realizecL.  Over  against  the 
one-sidedness  of  the  goods  ethics,  the  duty  ethics, 
though  itself  one-sided  as  we  shall  see,  has  been  of 
invaluable  service  in  ethical  development. 

The  third  idea,  that  of  virtue,  has  been  less 
prominent  in  speculation  as  the  basis  of  a  system. 
It  has  often  been  assimilated  to  the  others  by 
making  virtue  the  chief  good  or  the  sum  of  duty. 

Schleiermacher  declares  that  the  true  order  of 
these  ideas  is  this:  the  good,  duty,  and  virtue.  The 
good  is  perceived  as  having  value  in  itself ;  and  from 
this  insight  arises  the  duty  or  obligation  of  striving 
for  it.  When  this  duty  is  recognized  and  performed, 
we  have  the  notion  of  virtue.  When  the  perform- 
ance of  duty  becomes  habitual,  we  have  virtuous 
character.  The  unconditional  idea  is  the  good. 
This  makes  demands  upon  the  will,  that  is,  produces 
the  idea  of  duty  or  obligation.  Virtue  consists  in 
the  recognition  of  these  demands  and  in  habitual 
submission  to  them. 

If  only  a  system  of  conduct  for  hypothetical  be- 
ings were  in  question,  there  could  be  little  doubt  of 
the  truth  of  this  analysis.  The  duties  of  an  agent 
must  lie  within  the  limits  of  his  well-being,  and 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER  23 

must  deiDend  upon  their  relation  to  that  well-being. 
Duties  against  well-being  would  be  abhorrent. 
Duties  with  no  tendency  to  further  well-being 
would  be  idle  and  inane.  But  if  we  are  to  apply 
Schleiermacher's  view  to  human  morality,  we  must 
observe  that  it  represents  the  rational  dependence 
of  moral  ideas  rather  than  the  order  in  which  they 
actually  present  themselves  in  consciousness.  The 
basal  fact  of  moral  exj:)erience  is  much  better  ex- 
pressed by  the  notion  of  duty  than  by  the  notion  of 
good.  We  are  commonly  convinced  that  something 
is  a  duty  without  thinking  of  any  reason  why,  and 
often  without  being  able  to  give  one.  In  all  un- 
developed lives,  the  apparition  of  duty  is  generally 
a  disturber  of  our  sentient  peace,  and  something  we 
would  gladly  escape.  If  we  allow  that  there  is  no 
duty  which  is  not  related  to  a  good  to  be  reached,  we- 
must  equally  allow  that  the  service  of  this  good  is 
no  present  pleasure.  Even  the  dictates  of  self-re- 
garding prudence  must  commonly  appear  as  an 
imperative  of  reason  rather  tlian  as  offering  an 
agreeable  exercise.  For  beings  with  perfect  insight, 
there  might  be  no  duty  unconnected  with  an  appre- 
hended good ;  but  for  beings  who  do  not  know  even 
their  own  true  needs,  the  good  must  always  appear 
under  the  form  of  law.  This  is  always  the  case 
with  children,  and  largely  the  case  with  men. 

We  must,  then,  distinguish  two  standpoints  in 
ethics,  the  inductive  and  the  theoretical.  The  for- 
mer aims  to  discover  and  describe  the  actual  form 
of  moral  experience,  and  the  latter  aims  to  adjust 
our  moral  ideas  in  a  rational  system. 


24  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

For  the  former,  the  first  fact  is  the  notion  of  right 
and  duty,  unconditional  imperatives.  It  is  this 
fact  which  constitutes  the  strength  of  the  duty  ethics 
and  of  all  rigoristic  systems.  Historically,  too,  the 
affirmation  of  such  unconditional  duty  has  been  of 
the  utmost  value  in  restoring  tone  to  the  moral 
nature.  The  goods  ethics  occupies  the  other,  or 
theoretical  standpoint.  It  asks  what  the  laws  and 
duties  are  for,  or  to  what  they  tend.  It  observes 
that  these  unconditional  duties  are  not  always  in 
accord  with  visible  prudence  and  self-interest,  and 
it  insists  that  unless  they  can  be  connected  with 
some  good  which  cannot  otherwise  be  reached,  they 
lose  all  rational  authority  and  sink  to  the  level  of 
blind  instincts  which  somehow  have  lost  their  way. 
To  an  understanding  of  the  ethical  life  it  is  neces- 
sary to  keep  these  two  points  of  view  distinct ;  and 
if  we  are  to  have  an  adequate  theory  of  conduct, 
we  must  take  account  of  both. 

In  the  established  round  of  conventional  life,  the 
duty  ethics  has  to  be  made  prominent ;  for  here  duty 
is  commonly  plain,  and  unwillingness  to  perform  it 
is  the  great  practical  difficulty.  We  have  then  to 
forbid  with  all  emphasis  the  selfish  casuistry  which 
tries  to  argue  duty  away  in  the  name  of  hypotheti- 
cal consequences,  as  such  casuistry  is  founded  in  in- 
ward dishonesty.  In  such  cases  we  cannot  assert 
too  strongly  the  categorical  nature  of  duty.  But, 
on  the  other  hand,  in  enlarging  and  correcting  and 
justifying  our  code,  we  have  to  fall  back  upon  the 
goods  ethics.  Indeed,  the  duty  ethics  is  manifestly 
distinct  from  the  goods  ethics  only  in  those  conven- 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    25 

tional  cases  where  duty  is  agreed  upon,  and  where 
only  the  disposition  of  the  agent  is  in  question.  As 
soon  as  the  most  rigoristic  moralist  finds  himself 
in  a  new  field,  he  tacitly  betakes  himself  to  the 
goods  ethics.  In  general,  when  the  duty  ethics 
ignores  the  goods  ethics,  it  tends  to  formalism  and 
etiquette  in  which  the  unconditional  sacredness  of 
its  imperatives  becomes  absurd ;  and  when  the 
goods  ethics  ignores  the  duty  ethics,  it  sinks  to  the 
level  of  practical  shrewdness  and  loses  its  moral 
character  altogether. 

The  two  grand  divisions  of  ethical  philosophy  are 
now  before  us.  One  seeks  to  found  the  notion  of 
duty  in  goods  to  be  reached ;  the  other  seeks  to 
make  duty  an  absolute  self-sufficing  imperative.  If 
it  be  deduced  from  anything  it  must  be  from  the 
nature  of  the  moral  subject,  and  not  from  any  con- 
sideration of  external  ends.  All  other  divisions  are 
psychological  rather  than  ethical.  They  concern 
the  nature  of  the  moral  faculty,  whether  it  is  allied 
to  sense  or  understanding,  whether  it  is  original  or 
derived,  etc.  All  such  questions  should  be  finally 
remanded  to  psychology;  and  Indeed,  even  there 
they  are  mostly  questions  of  words  and  classifica- 
tions. If  we  should  decide  that  the  moral  faculty 
belongs  to  the  sensibility  rather  than  the  under- 
standing, that  it  is  a  modification  of  sympathy,  that 
it  is  a  special  sense,  or  even  that  there  is  no  moral 
faculty  but  only  a  special  action  of  the  judgment, 
we  should  have  nothing  of  value  for  either  theoreti- 
cal or  practical  ethics.     Our  moral  nature  remains 


26  PRINCIPLES    OF   ETHICS 

what  it  is,  whatever  we  may  call  it ;  and  our  duties 
are  what  they  are,  whatever  our  psychology  of  the 
moral  nature,  and  whatever  our  ancestors,  pre- 
human or  sub-human,  may  have  been. 

We  have  already  expressed  the  conviction  that  the 
two  great  divisions  of  ethics  mutually  imply  each 
other,  if  the  full  moral  consciousness  of  mankind  is 
to  find  expression.  This  conviction  will  be  strength- 
ened by  considering  their  respective  claims  more  at 
length.     And  first  let  us  listen  to  the  goods  ethics. 

Moral  action  must  come  under  the  head  of  rational 
action ;  and  action  to  be  rational  must  have  some 
end  beyond  itself.  Action  for  form's  sake,  action 
which  ends  in  itself  and  leaves  things  where  they 
were  before,  would  be  irrational  and  inane.  But 
the  end  to  be  rationally  obligatory  must  be  a  good 
of  some  sort.  There  can  be  no  obligation  to  mis- 
chievous action.  There  can  also  be  no  obligation  to 
indifferent  action.  Hence,  the  ground  of  obligation 
to  action  must  lie  in  some  good  to  which  the  action 
is  directed.  All  political  and  social  legislation,  all 
jDractical  rules  in  family  and  personal  life  owe  all 
their  rational  authority  to  the  good  to  which  they 
are  directed,  or  to  which  they  are  necessary.  Laws 
and  rules  for  form's  sake  would  be  an  intolerable 
impertinence.  What  is  true  for  these  subordinate 
laws  is  equally  true  for  the  supreme  law  of  life.  It 
also  must  be  directed  toward  a  good  and  must  find 
in  that  good  the  ground  of  its  authority.  As  the 
deepest  thing  in  society  is  not  a  law,  but  a  set  of 
social  and  personal  goods  to  which  the  law  is  in- 
strumental, so  the  deepest  thing  in  the  moral  life 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    27 

cannot  be  a  moral  law,  but  some  good  or  goods  to 
which  that  law  is  instrumental.  And  as  in  society 
laws  which  are  purely  formal  are  set  aside  as  bar- 
ren etiquette  or  unwarrantable  interference  with 
personal  freedom,  so  a  moral  law  which  is  purely 
formal  must  be  set  aside  as  having  neither  author- 
ity nor  sacredness.  Our  constitution  makes  certain 
goods  possible,  and  there  are  certain  laws  necessary 
for  reaching  them.  Now  our  duty  must  lie  within 
the  range  of  these  goods  and  laws ;  and  the  notion 
of  obligation  beyond  this  range  reduces  duty  itself 
to  an  absurdity.  By  emphasizing  this,  utilitarian- 
ism has  done  great  good  and  has  been  an  important 
factor  in  moral  progress. 

It  is  plain  that  if  ethics  is  to  be  rationalized,  we 
cannot  rest  in  a  law  as  ultimate,  but  we  must  look 
to  ends.  Yet  we  should  greatly  deceive  ourselves  if 
we  fancied  that  the  preceding  argument,  even  allow- 
ing its  impregnability,  much  advances  the  solution 
of  the  practical  problem.  For  it  only  says  that,  to 
be  obligatory,  action  must  tend  to  good,  without 
giving  us  any  hint,  however,  of  what  this  good  is, 
or  how  or  where  it  is  to  be  sought.  Most  ethical 
questions  remain  just  where  they  were  before. 
Thus,  does  the  good  consist  in  action,  or  in  passion, 
or  in  a  certain  union  of  both?  Is  it  found  in  the 
moral  nature,  or  in  the  merely  sensitive  nature, 
in  physical  gratification  or  in  intellectual  satisfac- 
tion, in  the  joys  of  the  affections  or  in  moral  aspira- 
tion, a  pure  heart,  and  a  restful  conscience?  Again, 
is  the  good  one  or  many  ?  Are  there  grades  of  good  ? 
Are  all  goods  obligatory,  or  are  some  of  them  op- 


28  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

tional?  How  do  we  discover  the  good  and  the 
method  of  realizing  it?  By  experience  and  calcu- 
lation, or  by  insight  and  the  direct  voice  of  con- 
science? And  whose  is  this  good?  Is  it  my  good, 
or  your  good,  or  the  common  good?  These  ques- 
tions find  no  answer  in  the  claim  that  the  end  of 
action  must  be  a  good;  and  yet  they  carry  the 
chief  part  of  the  moral  problem  with  them,  and 
about  all  of  the  distinctions  between  ethical  schools. 
Again,  the  claim  that  the  justifying  ground  of 
moral  law  must  be  some  good  to  which  the  law  is 
directed  and  for  which  it  is  conditional,  by  no  means 
implies  that  the  good  must  always  be  seen ;  it  may 
only  be  believed  in.  Meanwhile  the  law  may  pre- 
sent itself  with  an  imperative  force  which  forbids  all 
tampering  with  it.  It  is  oversight  of  these  compli- 
cations which  leads  the  amateur  speculator  to  fancy 
that  all  problems  are  settled  by  saying  that  the 
notion  of  duty  pre-sujDposes  some  good  to  be  reached. 
Nevertheless,  though  not  all-explaining,  the  for- 
mal principle  itself  cannot  be  escaped  if  ethics  is  to 
find  any  rational  basis.  This  is  shown  by  the  gene- 
ral course  of  intuitional  ethics.  Writers  of  religious 
position  have  generally  found  it  necessary  to  pro- 
vide a  "sanction"  of  some  sort,  because,  as  they 
have  alleged,  virtue  and  happiness  in  the  visible 
government  of  the  world  have  no  necessary  connec- 
tion, and  such  a  connection  there  must  be  to  make 
it  worth  while  to  be  good.  Other  writers  who  have 
maintained  a  purely  speculative  position  have  found 
themselves  compelled  to  resort  to  sundry  extra- 
ethical  assumptions  to  escape  collapse.     Thus  Kant 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    29 

was  forced  to  posit  God,  immortality,  and  heaven  to 
prevent  his  doctrine  from  falling  asunder.  A  per- 
petual divorce  between  virtue  and  happiness  seemed 
to  him  a  moral  absurdity,  although  in  determining 
the  notion  of  duty  and  the  contents  of  the  moral 
consciousness,  he  would  allow  no  appeals  whatever 
to  consideration  of  results,  and  insisted  on  the  pure 
moral  form  of  action  as  the  only  thing  to  be  taken 
into  account.  This  rigorism  was  historically  very 
important  as  a  reaction  against  the  selfish  and  sen- 
sualistic  ethics  which  sprang  out  of  the  Lockiau 
empiricism,  but  it  was  itself  equally  one-sided. 

The  same  necessity  of  looking  beyond  form  to 
ends  appears  in  Kant's  fundamental  law:  Act  so 
that  the  maxim  of  thy  conduct  shall  be  fit  to  be 
universal  law.  Kant  here  emphasizes  one  demand 
which  a  calculating  ethics  is  apt  to  overlook,  and 
which  over  against  the  selfish  tendencies  in  conduct 
is  of  the  greatest  importance.  It  will  always  help 
to  insight,  in  the  decision  of  practical  questions,  if 
we  ask  ourselves.  Should  we  be  willing  to  have  all 
men  do  the  same  thing?  or  would  there  be  any 
practical  absurdity  in  making  the  principle  of  our 
action  universal?  In  this  way  the  presence  of  sel- 
fish partiality  or  inward  untruth  may  be  detected  ; 
and  as  these,  rather  than  ignorance,  are  the  great 
sources  of  evil  conduct,  the  impartial  application  of 
Kanfs  principle  would  make  it  practically  very 
fruitful.  In  a  settled  life,  duty  is  generally  plain 
for  those  who  are  willing  to  see  it.  In  such  a  life 
also  nothing  works  more  disastrously  than  a  calcu- 
lating casuistry  under  the  guidance  of  inward  dis- 


30  PRINCIPLES    OF   ETHICS 

honesty.  It  is  always  possible  to  figure  out  quite  a 
case  for  the  basest  and  most  infamous  crimes. 

We  cannot,  then,  over-emphasize  the  categorical 
imperative  in  its  own  sphere.  For  the  individual 
whose  scruples  arise  from  a  selfish  unwillingness  to 
recognize  duty,  the  categorical  imperative  is  the 
only  prescription.  But  Kant's  principle  as  the 
basis  of  a  code  by  no  means  escapes  reference  to  an 
end.  If  it  be  indifferent  what  comes  out  of  con- 
duct, any  principle  whatever  can  be  made  universal. 
So  far  as  the  causal  carrying  out  of  a  principle  of 
action  is  concerned,  any  and  all  are  fit  to  be  univer- 
sal law.  The  only  ground  of  distinction  between 
possible  princijDles  of  action,  then,  must  lie  in  the 
ends  to  which  they  are  directed.  Without  an  im- 
plicit reference  to  some  end,  Kant's  formula  is 
utterly  empty,  and  applies  to  any  one  principle  of 
action  as  well  as  to  any  other. 

If,  then,  we  ask  how  we  come  to  believe  a  certain 
course  of  conduct  right,  the  answer  might  fall  out 
variously,  according  to  our  psychology.  But  if  we 
ask  why  we  believe  it  to  be  right,  it  would  seem 
that  we  must  at  last  fall  back  upon  its  tendency, 
known  or  believed  in,  to  promote  well-being.  This 
conclusion  would  still  be  necessary,  even  if  the  con- 
viction were  instinctive;  for  reason  reserves  the 
right  of  revising  our  instincts  and  of  inquiring  what 
they  mean,  and  what  they  are  going  to  do  with  us. 
As  an  instinctive  appetite  for  a  certain  kind  of  food 
would  be  ruled  out  if  it  contradicted  established 
physiological  science,  so  an  instinctive  code  would  be 
set  aside,  if  it  turned  out  to  be  empty  or  injurious. 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER  31 

Thus  the  goods  ethics  seems  to  carry  us  along 
with  it,  at  least  so  far  as  action  is  concerned  which 
looks  to  the  production  of  effects.  Whether  there 
be  conduct  which  aims  simply  to  express  a  character 
will  be  considered  further  on.  Meanwhile  it  is  plain 
that  the  great  bulk  of  duty  refers  to  some  form 
of  productive  activity ;  and  here  the  only  assignable 
rational  ground  of  obligation  lies  in  its  relation  to 
well-being.  But  now  we  come  upon  the  following 
exposition  from  the  side  of  the  duty  ethics,  which 
seems  to  exclude  the  goods  ethics  altogether. 

Action  may  be  considered  in  its  consequences  or 
in  its  motive,  as  producing  effects  or  as  expressing 
a  disposition  and  character.  In  the  former  relation 
action  may  be  wise  or  unwise,  prudent  or  impru- 
dent, a  success  or  a  failure.  Only  when  considered 
in  the  latter  relation  is  it  moral  or  immoral.  Action 
as  wise  or  unwise  depends  upon  its  relation  to  the 
system  of  law  in  which  we  live ;  action  as  moral  or 
immoral  depends  upon  its  relation  to  a  subjective 
ideal  of  right  and  wrong.  The  ideal  order  would  be 
that  action  should  spring  from  a  right  principle  of 
action  and  should  then  be  guided  by  perfect  knowl- 
edge to  the  best  results. 

Thus  we  seem  to  be  introduced  to  a  distinction 
between  judgments  of  wisdom,  or  folly,  and  prop- 
erly moral  judgments.  The  former  refer  to  conse- 
quences, and  the  latter  to  motive  and  character. 
The  former  apply  to  action  abstractly  considered  as 
the  production  of  effects  in  the  world  of  reality; 
and  the  latter  apply  to  it  only  as  an  expression  of 
personality.     And  this  distinction  seems  abundantly 


32  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

justified  by  the  moral  consciousness  of  men.  Our 
moral  judgments  are  mainly  judgments  of  will  and 
purpose ;  and  when  the  principle  of  action  is  under- 
stood, our  judgment  is  immediate  and  irreversible. 
The  only  use  we  make  of  consequences  in  reaching 
a  judgment  is  to  find  what  the  ruling  principle 
probably  was.  When  the  act  is  of  a  well-under- 
stood class,  we  judge  it  so  immediately  that  the  ab- 
stract act,  and  not  the  person  or  the  motive,  seems 
to  be  the  object  of  judgment.  That  this  view  is 
correct  may  be  seen  by  varying  any  of  the  elements 
of  an  action,  but  leaving  the  motive  the  same,  or, 
conversely,  by  changing  the  motive  and  leaving 
all  else  the  same.  In  the  former  case  the  moral 
estimate  is  unchanged ;  in  the  latter  it  is  reversed. 
No  failure  of  a  right  purpose  leads  us  to  morally 
condemn  the  act  or  the  actor;  and  no  unintended 
good  results  of  a  selfish  aim  lead  us  to  praise  the 
agent.  All  whitewashing  of  unsavory  characters 
takes  the  direction  of  showing  that  they  had  other 
aims  and  motives  than  those  attributed  to  them. 
We  must,  then,  distinguish  between  the  moral 
judgment  of  an  act  and  the  estimate  of  its  pru- 
dence, etc. 

Moral  action,  then,  has  two  factors,  a  certain  con- 
tent and  outcome  which  may  be  objectively  esti- 
mated without  any  reference  to  the  person  whatever, 
and,  next,  a  moral  character  v>^hich  can  only  be  sub- 
jectively estimated.  When  an  action  springs  from  a 
will  to  do  right,  we  view  it  as  morally  right,  what- 
ever its  other  shortcomings  may  be ;  and  when  it 
springs    from   any   other   motive   whatever,    it   is 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    3'> 

morally  imperfect,  and  may  bo  morally  wrong. 
Action  into  which  the  moral  element  does  not  enter 
is  morally  indifferent.  Tiiis  is  the  case  with  all 
forms  of  activity  which  do  not  reveal  character, 
but  only  skill,  faculty,  address,  and  their  opposites. 
Where  only  these  elements  are  in  play  we  regard 
the  act  as  without  moral  quality.  The  person  may 
be  shrewd  or  sagacious,  but  he  is  not  a  good  man 
on  that  account ;  or  he  may  be  weak  and  silly,  yet 
without  being  wicked.  But  in  action  which  is  to 
be  moral,  we  demand  more  than  a  consideration  of 
results ;  we  demand  a  right  motive  apart  from  any 
consideration  of  results.  Where  this  is  absent,  we 
decline  to  admit  the  goodness  of  the  act;  as  when 
one  does  works  of  apparent  benevolence  but  with  a 
selfish  aim,  or  omits  crime,  not  because  it  is  wrong, 
but  from  a  fear  of  punishment.  Right  action  may 
or  may  not  have  external  success,  but  it  must  have 
a  right  internal  spring,  or  a  right  moral  form. 

If  we  were  unable  to  deny  much  force  to  the 
reasonings  of  the  goods  ethics,  we  are  equally  unable 
to  deny  a  like  or  even  greater  force  to  this  exposition 
from  the  side  of  the  duty  ethics.  The  distinctively 
moral  element  seems  to  lie  somewhere  among  the 
springs  and  motives  of  action.  A  doubt  arises,  how- 
ever, whether  a  concrete  theory  of  conduct  can  be 
constructed  on  this  basis.  To  begin  with,  the  con- 
siderations urged  apply  only  to  our  judgment  of 
the  agent  and  in  no  way  decide  whether  the  act  it- 
self was  fit  to  be  done.  They  do  not  help  us  in 
constructing  a  code.  The  rightuess  or  wrongness 
3 


34  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

of  a  code  depends  upon  its  relation  to  well-being. 
The  morality  of  the  person  depends  on  his  motives, 
but  the  morality  of  a  code  depends  on  its  conse- 
quences. Good  intentions  may  indeed  excuse  past 
mistakes,  but  they  do  not  make  them  any  the  less 
mistakes.  To  allow  the  intention  to  justify  the 
deed,  as  well  as  excuse  the  doer,  would  reduce  ethics 
to  complete  barrenness.  The  sum  of  ethics  would 
then  be  comprised  in  the  one  precept,  Do  right ;  and 
this  in  turn  would  become,  Always  mean  to  do 
right.  Indeed  it  is  a  common  admission  with  writ- 
ers of  the  intuitional  school,  that  the  idea  of  right  is 
the  only  contribution  of  the  moral  nature,  the  appli- 
cation of  the  same  being  entirely  due  to  the  judg- 
ment as  informed  by  experience.  Thus  by  a 
roundabout  way  they  come  out  unexpectedly  into 
utilitarianism.  Either  we  must  look  beyond  form 
to  contents,  or  ethics  shrivels  into  a  perfectly  barren 
doctrine  of  good  intentions. 

The  same  concrete  acts,  externally  considered, 
may  indeed  sj^ring  from  a  right  motive  or  from  a 
wrong  motive,  and  may  be  of  opposite  moral  quality 
accordingly,  but  this  is  far  from  proving  that  the 
good  will,  that  is,  the  will  to  do  right,  can  be  ab- 
stracted from  all  consideration  of  ends  beyond  itself. 
This  abstract  good  will  is  an  empty  figment.  With- 
out doubt  the  good  will  is  the  centre  of  the  moral 
life,  but  the  good  will  must  will  something.  In 
order  to  manifest  itself  at  all,  or  even  to  exist,  there 
must  be  a  series  of  objects,  themselves  good  or  bad. 
These  may  consist  in  states  and  capacities  of  the  per- 
son, or  in  the  elements  of   the   environment;  but 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    ;j5 

without  them,  volition  of  any  kind  would  he  aimless 
and  impossible.  If  the  objects  were  indifferent  in 
themselves,  the  good  will  would  be  shown  no  more 
in  willing  any  one  than  in  willing  any  other;  and 
action  would  be  inane  and  irrational  in  any  case. 
Plainly  the  good  will  can  exist  only  as  a  series  of 
things  exist  which  are  good  in  themselves.  These 
natural  goods  make  the  good  will  possible,  and  the 
good  will  is  made  actual  in  their  choice  and  realiza- 
tion. The  good  will  which  wills  nothing  good 
would  be  contemptible,  if  it  were  not  a  contradiction. 

It  was  the  emptiness  of  all  purely  formal  ethics 
which  led  to  Jacobi's  famous  protest  in  his  letter  to 
Fichte : 

"  Yes,  I  am  the  atheist  who,  in  defiance  of  the  will 
that  wills  nothing,  w^ill  lie,  as  Desdemona  dying 
lied ;  will  lie  and  deceive,  as  Pylades  pretending  to 
be  Orestes;  will  murder  like  Timoleon,  break  law 
and  oath  like  Epaminondas  and  John  De  Witt, 
commit  suicide  as  Otho,  and  rob  the  temple  as  David ; 
yes,  pluck  ears  on  the  Sabbath,  and  that,  too,  because 
I  am  hungry,  and  the  law  was  made  for  man  and 
not  man  for  the  law." 

Leaving  Jacobi  to  answer  for  himself,  it  is  plain 
that  no  sufficient  law  of  life  can  be  found  in  formal 
ethics  alone,  and  that  we  must  look  not  only  to 
form  but  also  to  ends  and  outcome.  Plainly  no 
law  can  be  rationally  obligatory  which  is  opposed  to 
the  true  v/ell-bei.ng  of  the  agent.  Such  a  law,  if 
imposed  from  without,  must  be  resented  as  injus- 
tice ;  and  if  it  seem  to  be  imposed  from  within,  it 
can  only  be  regarded  as  the  outcome  of  a  blind  in- 


36  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

stinct  which  has  lost  its  way.  The  law  arising  from 
the  conditions  of  w^ell-being  is  the  only  law  that  can 
rationally  or  justly  be  imposed  upon  any  being; 
and  if  there  should  be  any  opjDosition  between  this 
law  and  that  arising  from  considering  the  form  of 
conduct,  our  ethics  could  be  rationalized  only  on 
the  supposition  that  at  bottom  both  laws  are  one. 
If  there  should  be  an  irreconcilable  opposition,  the 
law  of  well-being  has  precedence  over  the  law  of 
form.  It  is  the  apparent  indifference,  and  some- 
times opposition,  of  these  laws  which  gives  rise  to 
the  duty  ethics  and  the  goods  ethics;  whereas  the 
two  must  be  combined  before  we  reach  any  complete 
moral  system.  Duty  ethics  taken  alone  is  an  un- 
lawful abstraction  resulting  from  considering  the 
good  will  apart  from  its  conditions  and  objects;  and 
the  goods  ethics  taken  alone  is  an  equally  unlawful 
abstraction  resulting  from  considering  cond  uct  apart 
from  the  living  subject.  The  good  will  must  aim 
at  well-being,  and  well-being  is  realized  in  and 
through  the  good  will. 

It  is  this  unlawful  putting  asunder  of  things 
which  belong  together  that  gives  its  chief  signifi- 
cance to  the  question  as  to  the  ground  of  obligation. 
It  is  claimed  that  a  thing  should  be  done,  on  the 
one  hand,  because  it  is  right,  and,  on  the  other,  be- 
cause it  tends  to  well-being.  But  if  the  act  be  con- 
sidered in  abstraction  from  the  will  and  purpose  of 
the  actor,  no  one  can  tell  what  he  means  by  its 
being  right  in  distinction  from  its  beneficent  ten- 
dency. If  then  one  falls  back  on  the  good  will  as 
the  ground  of  its  Tightness,  he  is  still  bound  to  tell 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    37 

what  it  is  in  the  act  which  fits  it  to  be  an  expres- 
sion of  the  good  will;  and  this  also  must  be  sought 
in  its  beneficent  tendency.  Doing  a  thing  because 
it  is  right  by  no  means  consists  in  doing  it  because 
no  rational  reason  can  be  assigned,  but  in  doing  it 
because  the  impartial  and  unselfish  reason  com- 
mands it. 

But  when  the  goods  ethics,  on  the  other  hand 
finds  the  ground  of  obligation  in  consequences  only, 
it  is  bound  to  take  all  consequences  into  account ; 
and  of  these  the  most  important  are  to  be  found,  not 
in  the  external  world,  but  in  the  reaction  of  the 
personality  upon  itself.  The  goods  ethics  has  often 
shown  a  tendency  to  ignore  subjective  consequences 
and  to  regard  conduct  as  right  which  promised 
no  external  mischief.  The  moral  personality  has 
been  ignored  as  an  end;  and  passive  pleasures 
and  objects  quite  external  to  the  personality  have 
been  proposed  as  the  sole  goods  of  life.  Indeed, 
some  have  carried  this  so  far  as  to  value  the  moral 
person  himself  only  for  his  utility,  so  that  finally 
we  esteem  the  good  man  for  reasons  essentially 
the  same  as  those  for  which  we  esteem  a  pair 
of  overshoes.  Such  extravagance  is  one  chief 
source  of  the  disfavor  of  the  goods  ethics  with  the 
common  conscience.  Virtue  has  been  measured  by 
its  market  value ;  and  this  the  duty  ethics  has  re- 
sented by  declaring  that  virtue  has  no  value  what- 
ever. Both  claims  are  about  equally  absurd ;  yet 
both  claims  will  continue  to  be  set  up  until  it  is 
seen  that  the  duty  ethics  and  the  goods  ethics 
mutually  imply  and  supplement  each  other. 


211319 


38  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

A  prolific  source  of  error  in  this  matter  has  "been 
a  confusion  of  the  doctrine  of  goods  with  a  coarse 
utilitarian  conception  which  looks  only  to  external 
and  marketable  values.  Hence  many  have  thought 
that  the  goods  ethics  holds  that  intellect,  wisdom, 
learning,  and  virtuous  character  are  good  only  be- 
cause of  what  we  can  make  out  of  them.  A  devel- 
oped and  finished  intellect  is  not  a  good  in  itself  and 
for  itself;  but  has  its  value  solely  in  the  fact  that 
it  may  help  us  to  get  on  in  life,  to  command  a 
salary,  or  to  win  a  high  position.  A  similar  meas- 
ure applies  to  character.  But  this  is  caricature. 
There  is  nothing  in  the  goods  ethics  to  forbid  the 
claim  that  these  things  are  valuable  in  themselves 
v/ithout  any  reference  to  extrinsic  ends.  They  are 
intrinsically  good. 

We  may  conclude  this  matter  by  reaffirming 
Schleiermacher's  position  that  the  good,  duty,  and 
virtue  are  the  fundamental  moral  ideas,  and  that 
their  order  is  that  just  given.  There  must  be  goods 
of  some  sort  to  give  duty  any  rational  meaning ; 
and  the  free  and  loving  performance  of  duty  is 
what  we  mean  by  virtue.  Any  system  which 
ignores  any  of  these  elements  necessarily  fails  to 
express  our  full  moral  life.  The  duty  ethics  and 
the  goods  ethics  are  to  be  reconciled  in  the  following 
conception:  Our  constitution  makes  various  goods 
ix)ssible.  These  are  the  various  forms  of  well-being 
founded  in  the  essential  structure  of  our  minds  and 
in  their  external  relations.  As  such  they  are  natu- 
ral, and  not  moral.     They  are  not  expressions  of 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER  30 

character,  but  only  of  our  nature.  But  while 
themselves  only  natural,  they  furnish  the  condition 
of  all  moral  activity.  They  do  not  realize  them- 
selves. Our  nature  does  not  move  unerringly  to 
its  goal.  For  this  there  is  needed  the  activity  of 
the  free  spirit.  When  these  goods  are  seen  in  their 
value  and  obligation,  and  the  free  spirit  devotes 
itself  to  their  realization,  we  have  moral  activity. 
But  this  activity  is  not  something  which  has  ends 
of  its  own  apart  from  nature ;  it  is  rather  superin- 
duced upon  nature ;  and  its  aim  is  to  lift  the  natural 
to  the  plane  of  the  moral  by  setting  the  stamp  of 
the  free  spirit  upon  it.  The  moral  is  the  natural, 
glorified  and  realized  by  rational  freedom.  This 
view  reconciles  the  law  of  duty  and  the  law  of  hap- 
piness, and  brings  unity  into  life.  The  moral  and 
the  natural  are  no  longer  mutuallv  exclusive 
realms,  but  the  moral  is  the  natural  under  the 
moral  form.  The  function  of  freedom  is  not  to 
change  the  laws  of  our  nature  or  to  give  them  a 
new  resultant,  but  rather,  freely,  lovingly,  and 
thus  morally,  to  realize  the  goods  and  ideals 
shadowed  forth  in  our  nature. 

This  matter  may  be  re-stated  in  terms  of  the 
familiar  distinction  between  the  formal  and  the 
material  rightness  of  action.  The  former  depends 
upon  the  attitude  of  the  agent's  will  toward  his 
ideal  of  right,  the  latter  depends  on  the  harmony  of 
the  act  with  the  laws  of  reality  and  its  resulting 
tendency  to  produce  and  promote  well-being.  Con- 
duct which  is  formally  right  may  be  materially 
wrong ;  and  conduct  which  is  materially  right  may  be 


40  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

formally  wrong ;  but  no  conduct  can  be  even  formally 
right  when  the  agent  does  not  aim  to  be  materially 
right.  The  ideal  of  conduct  demands  both  formal 
and  material  rightness;  and  as  long  as  either  is 
lacking  the  outcome  is  imperfect.  The  material 
rightness,  however,  is  independent  both  of  the 
agent's  will  and  of  his  knowledge ;  and  all  that  the 
agent  adds  to  it  is  simply  the  formal  rightness  of 
the  good  will. 

From  this  standpoint  we  can  understand  some 
facts  which  have  often  proved  puzzles  in  ethical 
speculation.  If  one  does  "the  best  he  knows,"  it  is 
often  said  nothing  more  can  be  demanded  of  him. 
And  yet  it  is  plain  that  this  formal  righteousness  is 
altogether  insufficient  for  the  person's  well-being. 
The  reason  is  that  the  law  of  well-being  is  indepen- 
dent of  our  will.  If  we  misconceive  that  law  and 
act  accordingly,  we  may  be  formally  right,  but  be- 
cause of  the  misconception  we  should  be  materially 
wrong.  It  is,  then,  by  no  means  sufficient  that  one 
be  formally  right,  that  is,  true  to  his  convictions  of 
duty ;  he  must  also  be  materially  right,  that  is,  in 
harmony  with  reality  and  its  laws.  Formal  right- 
ness, of  course,  is  ethically  the  more  important,  as 
it  involves  the  good  will ;  but  material  rightness  is 
only  less  important,  as  without  it  our  action  is  out 
of  harmony  with  the  universe. 

How  much  use  can  be  made  of  these  results  in 
studying  the  concrete  problems  of  human  life  is 
very  far  from  clear.  As  long  as  we  confine  our- 
selves to  the  abstract  notions  of  duty  and  virtue,  it 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    41 

seems  plain  that  they  pre-siippose  a  system  of  goods 
and  well-being  as  their  condition.  But  it  may  turn 
out  that  our  nature  is  so  complex  that  this  result 
while  abstractly  true  is  practically  worthless.  But 
before  proceeding  to  this  inquiry,  we  may  notice 
'  some  of  the  peculiarities  of  ethical  theory  on  which 
our  previous  study  throws  some  light. 

Because  the  moral  character  of  action  centres  in 
the  will  to  do  right,  it  has  been  concluded  that 
ethics  need  take  no  account  of  consequences,  and 
has  only  to  do  with  will  and  motive.  "Relations of 
will"  are  said  to  be  the  only  proper  subject  of  moral 
judgments. 

We  have  already  expressed  our  disagreement 
with  the  first  part  of  this  claim.  The  latter  part 
has  a  large  element  of  truth  in  it ;  for  our  leading 
moral  judgments  are  judgments  of  will;  but  the 
claim  as  a  whole  is  too  narrow  to  express  the  com- 
plete moral  consciousness  of  mankind.  We  judge 
not  merely  the  will  but  also  the  sensibilities,  not 
merely  the  action  but  also  the  tendencies  and  spon- 
taneities of  the  being  itself.  We  demand  not  only 
that  the  will  be  right,  but  that  the  affections  and 
emotions  shall  be  harmonious  therewith.  Indiffer- 
ence to  right,  complacency  of  feeling  toward  evil, 
enthusiasm  for  the  insignificant  are  states  of  moral 
imperfection  upon  which  we  pronounce  judgment 
as  certainly  as  upon  abnormal  relations  of  will. 
The  will  is  not  the  whole  even  of  the  moral  man. 
In  such  cases  we  get  a  hint  that  the  standard  of 
moral  judgment  is  not  so  much  a  conception  of 
right  volitional  relations,  as  it  is  an  ideal  of  perfect 


42  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

manhood,  which  of  course  includes  the  right  rela- 
tions of  will,  and  much  more  besides.  The  claim 
that  the  will  is  the  only  subject  of  moral  judgments 
is  true  only  for  the  ethics  of  responsibility  and  of 
merit  and  demerit.  But  a  complete  ethics  must 
consider  the  whole  man  and  the  whole  field  of  life. 
Being,  as  well  as  doing,  or  rather  even  more  than 
doing,  is  to  be  considered  in  ethics. 

Another  error  which  •  has  arisen  from  the  same 
separation  of  form  from  contents  is  a  relapse  into 
outright  immorality.  Since  the  moral  elements  of 
conduct  lie  in  the  intention,  all  else  being  non-moral 
or  indifferent,  it  follows  that  we  have  only  to  direct 
the  intention  in  order  to  fulfil  all  righteousness, 
and  avail  ourselves  of  all  the  extra-ethical  satisfac- 
tion which  the  world,  the  flesh,  and  the  devil  may 
provide.  This  conclusion  is  by  no  means  unknown 
in  ethical  speculation  and  practice.  Some  of  the 
Stoics  justified  gross  sensual  indulgence  on  the 
ground  that  it  had  no  stain  for  the  pure  spirit, 
while  some  forms  of  ecclesiastical  ethics,  building 
upon  the  theory  that  morality  is  purely  a  matter 
of  intention,  have  confounded  all  moral  distinctions. 
Such  results  have  often  made  practical  men  both 
suspicious  and  impatient  of  ethics  as  a  doctrine  of 
intentions.  Doctrinaires  with  good  intentions  have 
wrought  great  mischief.  Philanthropists  have 
slaughtered  and  massacred  for  humanity's  sake, 
w^hile  for  the  glory  of  God  the  direst  atrocities 
have  been  jDerpetrated.  The  history  of  ethics  shows 
two  extremes.  In  one  case,  as  in  the  Greek  drama 
and  sometimes  in  religious  rites,  the  quality  of  the 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER  43 

act  is  determined  by  its  external  form  without 
any  reference  to  the  motive  of  the  doer.  The  case 
of  CEdipus  serves  as  an  illustration.  In  the  other 
case,  the  motive  is  considered  in  entire  abstraction 
from  reality,  an  abstraction  which  is  psychologically 
impossible  and  ethically  absurd.  Indeed  this  dis- 
tinction of  form  and  contents  has  never  been  allowed 
without  limitation  by  the  common  consciousness. 
Certain  duties  spring  so  immediately  and  inevitably 
from  the  universal  relations  of  life  as  to  be  viewed 
as  absolutely  right  in  themselves,  and  their  antithet- 
ical crimes  as  wrong  in  themselves.  In  such  cases 
the  common  conscience  has  never  allowed  the  dis- 
tinction of  form  and  contents,  except  on  the  assump- 
tion of  insanity.     Elsewhere  it  is  valid. 

This  distinction  also  enables  us  to  understand  a 
claim  made  by  the  duty  ethics,  notably  by  Kant, 
that  no  action  is  morally  right  which  is  not  done 
from  a  sense  of  duty.  Kant  insists  that  action 
done  from  affection,  or  desire,  or  as  the  outcome  of 
any  constitutional  instinct,  is  pathological  and  not 
moral.  At  first  glance  this  seems  an  atrocity ;  and 
to  do  things  from  a  sense  of  duty  without  any  love 
for  the  work  appears  as  the  lowest  stage  of  moral 
development.  To  replace  affection  in  the  family  as 
a  soring  of  action  by  a  sense  of  duty  would  not  seem 
to  be  a  moral  progress,  and  would  not  make  the  life 
of  the  family  either  more  lovely  or  more  happy. 
And  yet  there  is  truth  in  Kant's  claim;  and  that 
truth  is  the  fact  that  no  conduct  is  morally  perfect 
which  does  not  have  a  right  moral  form.  Mere  con- 
stitutional  affection  which  sees  and  wills  no  uni- 


44  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

versal  principle,  but  yields  itself  to  blind  instinct, 
is  neither  moral  nor  rational,  and  differs  essen- 
tially in  nothing  from  similar  manifestations  in 
the  animal  world.  The  lack  of  principle  in  such 
cases  is  often  shown  by  the  blindness  of  the  affec- 
tion to  the  real  good  of  its  object,  and  by  the  hard- 
heartedness,  amounting  even  to  brutality,  which 
may  co-exist  with  it. 

Instinctive  sympathy,  again,  so  far  from  being  a 
sufficient  security  for  right  action,  is  very  often 
the  pronounced  enemy  of  righteousness  and  justice. 
It  furnishes  a  natural  impulse  to  the  good  will,  but 
unless  directed  by  moral  insight  it  is  very  apt  to 
lose  itself  in  immoral  sentimentality.  This  is  espec- 
ially the  case  in  the  matter  of  punishment.  Here, 
unless  the  sense  of  justice  is  supplemented  by  animal 
rage  or  selfish  vindictiveness,  it  often  comes  to 
naught.  It  is  only  insight  into  moral  relations  and 
principles,  and  a  voluntary  submission  to  their  obli- 
gations, which  can  give  our  conduct  a  properly 
moral  character  and  standing.  Even  the  blind  im- 
pulses of  natural  affection  must  be  lighted  up  by 
moral  insight  and  by  the  free  and  conscious  self-de- 
votion of  the  agent.  But  this  insight,  on  the  other 
hand,  by  no  means  implies  a  reluctant  will  and  a 
cold  heart — which  is  what  acting  from  a  sense  of 
duty  generally  amounts  to.  The  insight  for  which 
we  contend  may  co-exist  with  any  warmth  of 
affection. 

But  the  Kantian  claim  has  not  always  been  thus 
restricted,  but  has  been  exaggerated  into  the 
gloomy  view  that  duty  to  be  rightly  performed  must 


FUNDAMENTAL  MORAL  IDEAS  AND  THEIR  ORDER    45 

be  reluctantly  performed.  It  is  this  exaggeration 
which  called  out  Schiller's  well-knowni  lines.  The 
scruple  is  thus  exjDressed : 

"Gladly  serve  I  ray  friends,  but  do  it,  alas,  with  afToction  : 
And  hence  I've  a  gnawing  suspicion  that  I'm  not  virtuous  yet. " 

The  solution  runs  thus : 

"  Help  except  this  there  is  none :  you  must  seek  and  strive  to 

despise  them. 
And  with  horror  perform  whatever  the  law  may  command." 

The  narrowness  and  falsity  of  this  view  are 
evident.  We  demand  not  merely  the  submis- 
sion of  the  will  but  the  harmony  of  the  desires 
and  affections.  We  demand  not  only  a  volitional 
submission  to  the  right  but  also  an  interest  in  it ; 
and  we  further  demand  that  our  interest  shall  be 
proportionate  to  the  value  of  the  thing  aimed  at. 
Intense  devotion  is  allowable  only  for  the  highest 
things.  Indifferent  aims  must  be  treated  with 
corresponding  indifference;  and  unimportant  aims 
must  not  be  exalted  into  significance.  The  mistake 
we  are  dwelling  upon  has  also  given  rise  to  the  sur- 
mise that  the  heavenly  life  can  hardly  be  a  moral 
life  at  all,  owing  to  the  assumed  lack  of  disinclina- 
tion to  active  righteousness. 

Finally,  the  distinction  of  formal  from  material 
Tightness  contains  the  solution  of  another  traditional 
difficulty.  It  is  said  that  consequences  cannot  be  the 
ground  of  the  moral  character  of  actions;  for  con- 
sequences are  infinite  and  hence  beyond  any  knowl- 
edge or  calculation  by  us.  Hence  to  set  up  such  a 
standard  is  to  deny  that  we  have  any  standard.     To 


46  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

this  we  reply  that  consequences  do  not  determine  the 
formal  rightness  of  conduct.  That  depends  upon 
the  attitude  of  the  person  toward  his  ideal  of  duty 
under  his  actual  circumstances.  But  for  the  mate- 
rial rightness  of  conduct,  there  is  no  standard  except 
consequences,  which  does  not  reduce  conduct  to 
barren  etiquette.  Even  if  we  fall  back  on  the  w^ill 
of  God,  we  can  only  regard  this  as  the  ground  of 
our  knowing,  and  not  as  the  ground  of  the  thing's 
being  right.  Further,  the  objections  drawn  from 
the  infinitude  of  consequences  is  more  verbal  than 
real.  It  applies  as  well  to  prudence  as  to  moral 
action.  The  prudent  action  is  measured  by  its 
consequences;  and  as  these  are  infinite,  there  is 
no  prudence.  The  fallacy  is  apparent.  The  for- 
mal virtue  of  prudence  is  an  attribute  of  character. 
The  concrete  realization  of  this  formal  virtue  must 
depend  upon  a  study  of  such  consequences  as  are 
open  to  our  inspection  and  insight.  In  like  man- 
ner, the  formal  virtue  of  virtue  is  nothing  but  the 
good  will  or  the  will  to  do  right.  But  in  realizing  this 
good  will  we  have  to  take  account  of  consequences; 
and  when  experience  has  revealed  little  or  nothing 
concerning  consequences,  our  judgment  of  the  right 
thing  to  do  is  wavering  and  uncertain.  This  is  the 
chronic  condition  of  our  code  when  extended  to  new 
fields  where  the  best  application  of  principles  is  not 
at  once  manifest.  Consequences  are  the  criteria 
of  material  rightness ;  but  to  the  agent  belongs  the 
duty  and  the  merit  of  its  realization. 


CHAPTER    II 

THE   GOOD 

It  is  extremely  easy  to  write  abstract  ethics  for 
hypothetical  beings.  Dealing  with  moral  ideas  in 
the  abstract,  it  is  plain  that  the  fundamental  con- 
ception is  the  good,  and  that  duty  must  derive  all 
its  obligation  from  its  relation  to  the  good.  Deal- 
ing with  our  hj^Dothetical  beings,  it  is  equally  plain 
that  their  duties  must  all  be  determined  by  the  laws 
and  conditions  of  their  well-being.  Hence  we  need 
only  study  these  laws  and  conditions  to  get  perfect 
insight  into  the  nature  and  range  of  the  resulting 
duties.  But  while  this  is  perfectly  clear  and  final 
when  abstractly  considered,  it  is  not  so  satisfactory 
when  concretely  applied.  For,  as  pointed  out  in  the 
previous  chapter,  we  often  find  strong  convictions 
of  duty  v/liich  are  not  consciously  connected  with 
any  apprehension  or  expectation  of  goods  to  be 
reached;  while  in  many  lives,  duty,  so  far  from 
being  the  way  to  hapjiiness,  seems  rather  to  be  the 
chief  enemy  of  our  peace.  Moreover,  our  insight 
into  our  own  nature  is  so  slight  that  we  are  quite 
unable  to  deduce  any  significant  law  of  conduct 
from  self- analysis.  Finally,  the  future  is  so  hidden 
from  us  that  we  have  no  such  knowledge  of  the 
goods  possible  to  humanity  as  would  enable  us  to 
lay  down  with  any  certainty  the  law  of  life.     It  is 

47 


48  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

perfectly  clear  that  the  duties  of  life  must  lie  within 
life  itself ;  but  when  we  attempt  to  apply  this  axiom 
to  man,  we  find  ourselves  unable  to  define  the  range 
of  life  and  its  possible  contents.  In  order  to  do  this 
we  must  know  the  relation  of  death  to  personal  ex- 
istence ;  and  until  we  know  this,  our  axiom  remains 
of  uncertain  application.  If  we  assume  that  death 
ends  all,  it  gives  us  one  result ;  if  we  assume  that 
death  does  not  end  all,  we  may  get  another  result. 
Manifestly,  unless  we  can  tell  what  the  good  is,  our 
abstract  ethics,  however  true  in  theory,  must  be 
practically  worthless.     What,  then,  is  the  good? 

It  is  conceivable  that  there  should  be  beings  of 
simple  nature,  or  of  perfect  insight,  to  whom  such 
a  question  would  present  no  difficulty.  Their  good 
and  the  resulting  law  of  their  being  might  be  per- 
fectly manifest,  either  because  of  the  simj^licity  of 
their  nature  or  because  of  their  develojDed  intelli- 
gence. But  in  the  case  of  man  the  variety  of 
answers  to  the  question  concerning  the  good  leads  us 
to  suspect  that  the  matter  is  more  complex  and 
difficult  than  appears.  At  first  it  seems  sufficient 
to  say,  The  good  is  the  desirable.  If,  then,  we  ask 
what  men  desire,  we  shall  find  the  good ;  and  if  we 
ask  what  they  supremely  desire  we  shall  find  the 
chief  good.  This  seems  rational  and  jDromising. 
"We  have  but  to  observe  life  to  find  the  good,  and 
then  by  reflection  and  calculation  we  may  deduce 
the  law  for  its  realization. 

Unfortunately,  the  moral  problem  is  not  thus 
simple.  There  are  goods  and  goods,  and  withal  men 
sometimes  desire  things  which  they  ought  not.     To 


THE   GOOD  40 

admit  that  the  actually  desired  is  the  ideally  desir- 
able, or  the  morally  permissible,  would  be  to  justify 
every  form  of  conduct  and  would  render  ethics 
needless.  The  Indian  who  burns  to  take  many 
scalps,  and  the  sot  who  desires  an  incessant  debauch 
would  be  as  moral  as  any  one  else.  But  every  form 
of  ethics  inquires  less  what  men  do  desire  than  what 
they  should  desire ;  and  every  system  is  forced  in 
one  way  or  another  to  distinguish  between  the  spon- 
taneous life  of  instinct  and  impulse  and  the  ordered 
life  of  reason.  We  must,  then,  inquire  what  the 
good  is,  and  how  and  where  it  is  to  be  sought. 

But  first  of  all  a  word  must  be  said  about  the 
nature  of  goods  in  general,  and  the  place  and  mode 
of  their  existence.  Both  schools  of  ethics  have 
fallen  a  prey  to  misleading  abstractions  at  this  point 
which  have  been  a  perennial  source  of  confusion. 

Nothing  can  be  a  good  except  in  relation  to  the 
sensibility  in  its  most  general  meaning.  If  we  con- 
ceive all  elements  of  feeling  struck  out  of  existence, 
no  reason  can  be  given  for  calling  a  thing,  or  even 
the  universe  itself,  good  rather  than  bad  or  indiffer- 
ent. Pleasure  and  pain  would  be  non-existent; 
and  no  state  of  things  would  have  any  more  signifi- 
cance than  any  other  state.  Even  the  value  of  the 
mental  life  does  not  consist  in  the  simple  indifferent 
passage  of  ideas  through  a  colorless  consciousness, 
but  rather  and  only  in  the  peculiar  satisfactions 
which  the  mental  life  brings  with  it.  The  sensibil- 
ity is  the  condition  of  all  values  of  whatever  kind ; 
and  the  sensibility  is  the  proper  seat  and  home 
4 


50  PRINCIPLES    OF   ETHICS 

of  all  values.  There  may  be  objects  which  are 
specially  fitted  to  arouse  the  sensibility,  or  which 
are  even  the  necessary  condition  cf  the  same ;  and 
these  we  may  call  goods  in  themselves  because  of 
this  relation,  but  their  value  is  made  actual  only  in 
the  sensibility. 

So,  then,  there  is  no  evil  but  pain  and  no  good 
but  pleasure !  This  result  admits  of  an  easy  mis- 
understanding, since  pain  and  pleasure  are  often 
limited  to  passive  physical  feelings.  Hence,  in  ad- 
dition to  pleasure  there  are  other  goods  of  happiness, 
excellence,  blessedness.  In  addition  to  pains  there 
are  evils  of  un worthiness,  demerit,  degradation.  Of 
course  if  pain  means  only  the  ache,  and  pleasure  only 
the  thrill,  of  a  nerve,  the  objection  is  valid;  but  the 
other  terms  put  in  their  place  are  manifestly  goods 
or  evils  only  in  the  sensibility.  It  is  only  a  ques- 
tion of  terminology. 

A  more  common  misunderstanding  is  as  follows : 
The  common  element  in  all  good  is  pleasure,  and 
goods  differ  only  in  the  amount  of  this  common  ele- 
ment. By  varying  this  element  in  its  various 
dimensions  of  intensity  and  duration  we  may  pass 
from  any  form  of  good  to  any  other,  or  at  least  we 
may  get  equivalent  values  for  any  good  whatever. 
The  difference  among  goods  consists  entirely  in  the 
relative  amounts  of  this  common  pleasure  which 
they  produce.  This  view  seems  to  introduce  a  great 
simplicity  into  ethics.  The  unconditional  good,  the 
good  in  itself,  is  pleasure,  and  all  else  is  instrumental 
for  its  attainment.  This  is  true  even  for  virtue 
itself,  which  is  not  an  end  but  only  a  means.     Some 


THE   GOOD  51 

things  are  better  than  other  things  because  they 
produce  more  pleasure.  If  now  wo  can  determine 
the  equivalents  of  our  various  objects  in  units  of 
pleasure,  we  may  by  comparing  them  determine  at 
once  the  rational  order  of  life. 

Unfortunately,  this  simplification  is  purely  ficti- 
tious. It  rests  upon  the  old  realistic  fallacy  of  mis- 
taking logical  terms  for  real  things.  The  terms 
pleasure  and  pain  are  the  same  in  their  respective 
applications;  but  the  thing  is  not  the  same.  All 
sensations  are  members  of  the  common  class  sensa- 
tion; and  yet  there  are  different  and  incommensur- 
able classes  of  sensations,  as  colors,  sounds,  odors, 
sensations  of  temperature,  pressure,  etc.  Their 
union  in  a  common  class  makes  no  identity  and 
removes  no  difference ;  least  of  all  would  it  be  possi- 
ble to  deduce  actual  sensations  with  their  specific 
differences  from  the  logical  class  sensation.  In  the 
same  way,  there  is  no  pleasure  and  pain  in  general, 
just  as  there  is  no  sensation  in  general,  but  only 
pleasures  and  pains  of  specific  quality  and  degree, 
just  as  there  are  only  sensations  of  specific  quality 
and  degree.  A  certain  scholastic  was  not  content 
with  apples,  pears,  etc. ;  and  insisted  on  having 
fruit  in  general.  Psychology  has  not  yet  advanced 
beyond  this  point.  It  has  not  learned  that  a  feel- 
ing is  what  it  is,  and  that  no  amount  of  classifica- 
tion can  make  it  anything  else.  The  universal 
feeling  or  sensation  continues  to  be  the  raw  material 
out  of  which  all  special  and  specific  feelings  are 
generated,  commonly  by  evolution  through  a  con- 
tinuous process  of  differentiation  and  integration. 


53  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

One  cannot  sufficiently  admire  the  insight  which 
finds  in  such  verbaHsms  a  contribution  to  philosophy 
rather  than  the  dictionary. 

Further,  the  satisfaction  which  things  bring  us 
takes  always  its  specific  coloring  aiid  quality  from 
the  thing  and  is  inseparable  from  it ;  so  that  to  de- 
sire the  satisfaction  apart  from  the  thing  is  absurd, 
and  its  realization  is  impossible,  much  as  a  smile 
would  be  apart  from  a  smiling  countenance.  The 
satisfaction  indeed,  represents  no  arbitrary  creation 
of  our  own  mind,  but  rather  the  value  which  the 
thing  in  question  has  for  us.  The  pleasures  of  the 
table,  the  comfort  of  good  health,  the  good  feeling 
attendant  upon  physical  exercise,  the  joy  of  know- 
ing, the  delight  of  the  affections,  the  peace  of  con- 
science,— all  of  these  take  their  color  or  quality 
from  their  objects,  or  from  the  phase  of  life  revealed 
in  them,  and  have  nothing  but  a  class  name  in 
common.  The  common  pleasure  to  which  they  all 
minister  in  varying  degrees  has  the  same  existence 
as  the  abstract  animal,  which  is  neither  horse  nor 
cow,  etc.,  but  simply  animal. 

The  doctrine  of  goods,  then,  says  nothing  about 
the  possibility  of  reducing  all  goods  to  a  common 
measure.  This  is  merely  a  deduction  founded  on  a 
logical  error.  No  more  does  the  doctrine  imply 
that  the  subjective  value  of  things  can  be  separated 
from  the  things  themselves.  This  is  a  psychologi- 
cal fiction.  Values  are  indeed  subjective,  but  they 
are  values  of  elements  objective  to  us,  or  to  our 
volition.     This  fact  in  ethics  is  the  parallel  of  a  cor- 


THE   GOOD  53 

responding  fact  in  aesthetics.  Beauty  as  such  is 
only  subjective,  but  it  is  always  objectively  condi- 
tioned; and  the  aesthetic  judgment,  therefore, 
represents  also  an  objective  fact,  namely,  the 
aesthetic  value  of  the  fact  in  question.  Again,  the 
perception  of  beauty  is  never  of  beauty  in  general, 
for  there  is  no  such  thing ;  there  is  rather  the  beauty 
of  this  or  that  specific  thing.  All  beautiful  things 
please,  that  is  their  common  element;  but  each 
beautiful  thing  pleases  in  its  own  peculiar  way.  It 
would  be  absurd  to  propose  to  strip  the  beauty  from 
the  thing  and  contemplate  the  beauty  by  itself;  for 
the  beauty  is  just  the  beauty  of  that  thing.  The 
application  is  obvious.  The  mind,  while  the  condi- 
tion of  all  beaut}',  does  not  carry  in  itself  the  prin- 
ciple of  distinction  between  the  beauty  of  different 
objects.  This  must  bo  found  in  the  objects  them- 
selves. The  aesthetic  value  of  different  things  is 
different.  So  in  the  case  of  goods.  Though  the 
sensibility  is  the  condition  and  seat  of  all  goods, 
yet  it  does  not  contain  the  ground  of  distinction  be- 
tween different  goods.  This  must  be  sought  in  the 
objects  themselves. 

This  fiction  of  a  common  pleasure  in  all  desirable 
experiences  has  been  the  ground  of  numberless  mis- 
takes in  ethics  and  renders  worthless  not  a  little  of 
our  ethical  literature.  Many  happiness  moralists 
have  decided  that  pleasure  is  pleasure,  and  that 
pleasures  differ  only  in  degree  and  duration.  The 
qualitative  differences  having  disappeared  in  the 
indifference  of  the  class  term,  these  theorists  found 
only  quantitative  differences  left.     Then  they  sought 


54  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

to  bring  their  theory  into  harmony  with  the  moral 
convictions  of  developed  humanity  by  showing  that, 
taking  all  the  dimensions  of  pleasure  into  account, 
the  so-called  virtues  are  the  road  to  happiness.  We 
must  prefer  mild  and  temperate  satisfactions  to  the 
more  intense  and  unbridled,  for  when  we  consider 
the  relative  certainty,  duration,  cost,  and  conse- 
quences, the  former  outweigh  the  latter.  In  this 
way  an  arithmetic  of  the  passions  was  produced  by 
Bentham,  with  the  aim  of  enabling  one  to  reckon 
the  value  of  competing  pleasures.  Of  course,  this 
arithmetic  is  absurd  if  pleasures  are  specific  and 
incommensurable.  At  best  it  could  apply  only  to 
competing  desires  of  the  same  class„  Kant  also 
denied  the  specific  difference  of  pleasures.  They 
may  be  more  intense,  vivid,  delicate,  but  essentially 
they  are  all  of  the  same  kind.  The  reason  given  is 
that  we  can  compare  them  and  prefer  one  to  another. 
But  this  reason  would  prove  that  duty  and  pleasure 
have  common  elements ;  for  comj)arison  and  prefer- 
ence are  equally  possible  here. 

On  the  other  hand  much  mistaken  polemics 
against  the  happiness  ethics  has  arisen  from  the 
same  blunder.  The  ond  of  action  was  declared  to 
be  action,  or  perfection,  or  order,  or  harmony,  or 
system ;  and  these  ideas  were  carefully  distinguished 
from  happiness.  This  was  due  partly  to  the  fact 
that  their  opponents  had  taken  a  somewhat  sensual 
view  of  happiness,  and  partly  to  a  desire  to  found 
ethics  on  "ideas  of  reason,"  instead  of  affections  of 
the  sensibility.  At  the  same  time  no  one  could  tell 
what  rational  ground  for  action  these   ideas  offer 


THE  GOOD  65 

apart  from  the  perceived  and  desired  value  of  their 
contents.  A  purely  formal  perfection,  for  instance, 
which  did  not  enhance  the  conscious  well-being  of 
the  subject  would  be  a  worthless  inanity,  if  not  a 
contradiction.  The  truth  is,  there  is  no  way  of  de- 
fining the  perfection  of  an  agent  excei)t  in  terms  of 
its  well-being  or  happiness.  Those  ideas,  then, 
which  are  opposed  to  happiness  are  really  insepara- 
ble from  it ;  and  the  attempt  to  separate  tliem,  as  if 
they  offered  aims  independent  of  all  relation  to  hap- 
piness, rests  on  a  fiction  of  abstraction. 

The  conclusion  is  that  there  is  no  possibility  of 
constructing  a  system  of  ethics  without  taking  the 
sensibility  into  account.  The  separation  between 
the  sensibility  and  the  reason  results  from  mistak- 
ing the  theoretical  divisions  of  psychology  for  real 
divisions  in  fact.  In  this  way  the  reason  has  been 
set  apart  for  colorless  knowing,  while  the  sensibility 
has  been  limited  to  blind  feeling,  and  the  will  has 
been  restricted  to  unmotived  and  unintelligent 
willing.  These  realms  have  been  further  marked 
off  by  fixed  frontiers  without  any  interpenetration. 
With  such  a  psychology,  confusion  could  not  fail  to 
arise.  But  this  is  illusory.  There  is  no  pure  know- 
ing and  no  pure  feeling.  The  reality  is  always  the 
actual  life  with  its  manifold  phases,  which,  how- 
ever, are  not  the  components  out  of  which  the  life 
is  built,  but  rather  the  forms  in  which  the  one  basal 
life  manifests  itself.  All  values,  all  goods,  must 
finally  be  expressed  in  terms  of  the  conscious  well- 
being  of  the  living  self — in  other  words,  in  terms 
of  happiness.     Those  for  whom  happiness  always 


56  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

means  passive  or  physical  gratification  will  do  well 
to  substitute  well-being.  In  general  our  psycholog- 
ical terminology  is  very  imperfect,  and  especially 
so  in  this  field. 

But  even  yet  we  have  no  practical  guidance.  We 
are  simply  forbidden  to  find  the  good  in  any  imper- 
sonal objects  or  forms,  or  anything  else  whatever 
which  fails  to  minister  to  the  well-being  of  conscious 
life ;  but  the  positive  content  of  the  notion  remains 
as  dark  as  ever.  Once  more,  then,  what  is  the 
good? 

Historically,  the  answers  are  various.  Some 
have  found  the  good  in  pleasure  (hedonism) ;  others 
have  found  it  in  happiness  (eudemonism) ;  still 
others  have  found  it  in  superiority  to  both  pleasure 
and  happiness  (cynicism,  and  to  some  extent  stoic- 
ism), and  others  again  in  personal  dignity  and  ex- 
cellence or  virtue  (current  intuitive  systems).  The 
first  two  differ  from  each  other  only  by  agreeing  to 
limit  pleasure  to  momentary  gratifications,  mainly 
physical,  while  happiness  is  understood  to  mean 
well-being  of  our  entire  nature.  If  we  chose  to  dis- 
tinguish again,  we  might  mark  off  blessedness  as  a 
third  and  higher  aim ;  and  this  has,  in  fact,  often 
been  done.  But  such  distinctions  are  arbitrary  and 
verbal. 

For  each  of  these  conceptions  something  might  be 
said.  For  a  being  capable  only  of  momentary  and 
isolated  gratifications,  such  pleasures  would  be  the 
onl}^  good.  If  man  be  such  a  being  our  system  must 
be  hedonism.     But  if  man  be  a  being  capable  of 


THE   GOOD  57 

looking  before  and  after,  and  needing  to  give  some 
unitary  aim  to  his  practical  life,  we  must  advance 
to  eudemonism.  Again,  if  our  well-being  were  only 
objectively  determined,  we  need  not  look  within  at 
all ;  but  a  being  whose  happiness  is  largely  deter- 
mined by  the  reaction  of  the  personality  upon  itself 
cannot  rest  in  an  objective  eudemonism.  It  is  this 
conception  of  eudemonism  which  accounts  for  most 
of  the  disfavor  with  w^hich  it  has  been  regarded. 
The  grounds  of  happiness  have  been  sought  with- 
out, and  the  significance  of  the  personality  within 
has  been  overlooked.  Such  a  eudemonism  looks 
only  to  outw^ard  fortune  and  ignores  the  demand  for 
inner  worthiness  on  the  part  of  the  moral  subject. 
Even  cynicism  is  intelligible  and  praiseworthy  as  a 
revolt  against  a  theory  vv^hich  would  find  the  end  of 
life  in  outward  gratifications.  We  have  now  to  in- 
quire how  these  conceptions  of  the  good  apply  to 
the  case  of  man. 

Our  nature  makes  a  great  variety  of  specific  mo- 
mentary gratifications  possible.  Such  are  the  pleas- 
ures of  sense  in  general,  and  a  great  variety  of  so- 
cial satisfactions  also.  It  is,  too,  both  natural  and 
rational  to  seek  them.  They  lie  at  the  foundation 
of  our  lives,  and  indeed  form  a  necessary  part  of 
life  itself.  Let  us  say,  then,  that  pleasure  is  the 
good,  and  that  the  function  of  ethics  is  simply  to 
find  the  method  of  realizing  it.  This  is  the  hedonis- 
tic  position. 

This  view  has  several  attractions  for  the  specula- 
tor.    First,  it  rests  upon  the  undoubted  fact  that 


58  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

pleasure  is  a  good ;  and,  secondly,  it  seems  to  do 
away  with  the  need  of  any  moral  insight  or  stand- 
ard beyond  experience  itself.  Besides,  by  beginning 
with  the  lowest  forms  of  sensibility,  it  gives  a  fine 
chance  for  develoj)ing  the  higher  forms  of  moral 
feeling  from  the  non-moral  forms  of  animal  sen- 
tiency.  Finally,  fatalistic  ethics  can  use  this  view 
for  a  foundation.  We  have  but  to  assume  that 
jileasure  determines  desire  and  desire  determines 
will,  to  have  apparently  a  simple  and  compendious 
theory  of  conduct  on  a  deterministic  basis.  With 
all  these  attractions,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the 
view  should  have  had  large  currency.  Nor  is  it 
necessary  to  deny  its  validity  for  a  considerable  share 
of  our  life.  In  developing,  and  also  in  mature,  life, 
there  is  a  large  factor  of  automatic  action  to  which 
this  view  fairly  well  applies.  The  difficulty  arises 
when  it  claims  to  be  a  complete  philosophy  of  action. 

In  order  to  give  the  view  any  definiteness  we 
must  limit  pleasure  to  the  various  affections  of  the 
passive  sensibility.  These  are  the  goods  of  life ;  and 
the  aim  of  action  is  to  realize  them.  YvT'ithout  this 
limitation,  the  view  would  be  undistinguishable 
from  any  form  of  the  goods  ethics.  And,  even  with 
this  limitation,  the  doctrine  is  double.  It  has  been 
held  (1)  that  pleasure  is  the  only  rational  aim  of 
action,  and  (2)  that  pleasure  is  the  only  possible 
aim  of  action.  The  former  view  is  ethical  hedon- 
ism ;  the  latter  view  is  psychological  and  fatalistic 
hedonism.      We  consider  the  latter  first. 

Psj^chological  hedonism  is  alwaj's  attractive  in 
the  first  stages  of  reflection.     It  seems  to  give  a 


THE   GOOD  59 

perfectly  simple  and  adequate  theory  of  conduct  as 
an  outcome  of  the  mechanism  of  sensation  and  pas- 
sive desire.  A  superficial  psychology  of  desire  lends 
itself  readily  to  the  illusion,  as  follows :  When  any- 
thing is  experienced  as  pleasant  or  in  connection 
with  pleasure,  it  is  desired.  When  some  other 
thing  has  been  experienced  as  unpleasant,  aversion 
is  felt.  In  this  way  experience  produces  a  set  of 
desires  and  aversions  united  by  association;  and 
out  of  these,  by  the  aid  of  reflex  action,  conduct  arises 
as  a  resultant.  There  is  no  call  and  no  place  for  a 
free  self.  Experience  reveals  the  pleasant  and  un- 
pleasant ;  and  conduct  follows  necessarily. 

This  is  so  clear  and  convincing  that  not  a  few 
well-meaning  men  have  got  hopelessly  stalled  in 
their  ethical  theory  at  this  point.  The  unlucky 
feature  of  the  case  is  that  by  this  time  ethics  has 
disappeared  altogether.  Instead  of  a  moral  person, 
we  have  a  psychical  mechanism.  And  even  if  ethics 
were  possible,  it  would  be  needless  and  useless. 
For  as  we  can  choose  only  the  jileasant,  there  is  no 
help  in  exhortation ;  and  besides,  the  exhorter  him- 
self is  in  the  same  plight.  Necessity  mimics  free- 
dom, and  all  theory  breaks  down  in  farce.  Hence, 
either  the  highest  philosophy  is  self-stultifying,  or 
there  is  some  blunder  here. 

And  the  blunder  seems  to  lie  in  the  doctrine  of 
desire.  This  doctrine  has  its  roots  (1)  in  a  sensa- 
tional psychology,  and  (2)  in  the  general  claim  that 
in  any  case  desire  is  necessarily  determined  by  affec- 
tions of  the  passive  sensibility.  These  deserve  sepa- 
rate consideration. 


60  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

According  to  sensationalism,  the  mind  is  only  a 
congeries  of  sensations  grouped  and  welded  by  asso- 
ciation. Discii^les  of  this  school  have  generally  main- 
tained psychological  hedonism;  and  yet  we  must 
say  that,  on  this  theory  of  mind,  pleasure,  so  far 
from  being  the  only  object  of  desire,  is  no  possible 
object  of  desire  whatever.  Pleasure  is  only  a  logi- 
cal abstraction,  and  in  its  generality  it  admits  of 
no  realization.  Actual  experience  can  never  be  of 
pleasure  in  general,  but  onl}^  of  certain  specific  and 
namable  gratifications,  which,  moreover,  are  gene- 
rally mutually  exclusive,  considered  as  co-existing 
experiences.  These  are  the  only  things  we  have 
experienced,  and  on  this  theory  of  mind  these  are 
the  only  things  we  can  desire.  Only  actual  and 
specific  pleasures  have  been  experienced ;  only  their 
recurrence  can  be  desired.  The  end  of  life  must  be 
sought  in  such  actual  and  named  gratifications; 
and  as  these  are  perpetually  changingj  life  has  no 
common  end  whatever.  Sensationalism  has  the 
same  difficulty  with  regard  to  the  end  of  life  that 
it  has  concerning  the  unity  of  the  object  in  percep- 
tion. In  the  latter  case,  the  visual  presentation  is 
constantly  changing ;  and,  if  the  presentation  be  all, 
we  can  only  conclude  that  there  is  no  unitary  and 
abiding  object.  A  series  of  dissolving  apparitions 
is  all  that  remains.  We  escape  the  difficulty  in 
ethics  by  setting  up  the  abstraction  pleasure,  or  the 
greatest  possible  sum  of  pleasures,  as  the  aim  of 
action,  in  complete  ignorance  of  the  fact  that  neither 
pleasure  nor  a  sum  of  pleasures  has  ever  been  ex- 
perienced, or  can  ever  be  objects  of  desire  with- 


THE   GOOD  61 

out  calling  in  other  functions  and  activities  than 
those  recognized  by  sensationalism.  In  every  case 
when  we  seem  to  desire  a  sum  of  pleasures  what 
we  really  have  in  mind  is  the  conception  of  ourselves 
in  the  enjoyment  of  well-being,  and  we  will  our- 
selves rather  than  any  particular  object. 

If  then  we  set  up  pleasure  as  the  end  of  action, 
we  must  abandon  our  sensational  psychology.  Sim- 
ple, homogeneous  pleasure  can  never  become  an  ob- 
ject for  a  mind  which  passively  registers  experience. 
But,  on  the  other  hand,  if  we  allow  that  abstract 
pleasure  is  a  possible,  and  the  only  possible,  object  of 
pursuit,  we  have  a  double  difficulty.  First,  the 
doctrine  is  practically  barren.  For  as  we  pursue 
pleasure  in  all  things,  good  and  bad  alike,  the  jDrac- 
tical  problems  of  conduct  are  untouched ;  and  we 
get  no  hint  concerning  the  right  direction  of  life. 
For  this  we  should  have  to  fall  back  on  an  arithmetic 
of  pleasures  with  its  impossible  calculations.  In 
the  next  place,  the  doctrine  shuts  us  up  to  saying 
that,  from  the  side  of  the  agent,  all  action  is  alike. 
John  and  Judas,  Arnold  aiid  Washington  were  all 
pursuing  the  same  end,  pleasure,  and  differed  only 
in  the  way  of  reaching  it.  And  as  we  may  well 
believe  that  this  difference  resulted  necessarily  from 
their  mental  equation,  it  is  doubtful  if  there  was 
any  moral  difference  in  the  case. 

This  is  the  ditch  into  which  a  blind  following  of 
these  abstractions  is  sure  to  lead  us.  We  climb  out 
by  remembering  that  pleasure  in  general  is  nothing, 
and  that  pleasures  in  abstraction  from  their  causes 
are  also  nothing.     They  are  so  bound  up  with  the 


62  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

object  in  most  cases  as  to  be  impossible  and  even 
meaningless  without  them.  Envy  does  not  aim  at 
pleasure  in  the  abstract,  but  wants  to  see  the  rival 
down;  and  the  diabolism  of  the  matter  is  that 
it  will  not  be  satisfied  until  the  rival  is  down. 
Haman's  desire  was  not  to  please  himself,  but  to  get 
Mordecai  under  foot.  Hence  the  object  of  desire  is 
not  to  be  found  in  any  simple  homogeneous  pleasure, 
but  in  a  multitude  of  objects  toward  which  our  na- 
ture tends.  As  Butler  and  others  have  pointed  out, 
our  nature  unfolds  and  moves  along  various  lines 
determined  by  our  constitution  and  not  by  the  ex- 
pectation of  any  pleasure.  Our  faculties  are  so 
made  that  their  normal  action  is  attended  by  spe- 
cific satisfactions,  but  these  satisfactions  are  the 
result  and  not  the  ground  of  our  constitution.  This 
is  decisive  against  the  traditional  psychological 
hedonism. 

We  come  now  to  the  leading  difficulty  in  the 
doctrine  which  would  found  desire  and  pleasure 
solely  in  the  passive  sensibility.  It  overlooks  the 
significance  of  self-consciousness  for  both  pleasure 
and  desire.  This  point  has  been  especially  empha- 
sized by  Green  in  his  Prolegomena  to  Ethics.  With 
the  child,  as  with  the  cattle,  simple  passive  gratifica- 
tions are  the  leading  form  of  experience ;  but  for 
the  developed  man  most  objects  derive  their  value 
from  their  relation  to  self-feeling  and  self-esteem. 
Indeed,  this  fact  appears  at  an  early  date  even  with 
the  children.  In  mature  willing,  the  great  aim  is 
not  to  secure  this  or  that  objective  gratification,  but 
to  bring  ourselves  into  some  kind  of  harmony  with 


THE   GOOD  63 

an  ideal.  The  thing  does  not  please  us  on  its  own 
account,  but  because  it  fits  into  some  ideal  of  our- 
selves. This  is  true  even  for  many  physical  matters. 
Thus  the  value  of  clothing  depends  far  less  upon  the 
physical  comfort  derived  from  it,  than  upon  the 
exaltation  of  self-feeling  which  may  accompany  it. 
Social  values  are  almost  entirely  of  this  kind.  Here 
desire  is  a  function  not  of  consciousness,  but  of  self- 
consciousness.  Instead  of  saying  that  we  desire  the 
thing  because  it  pleases,  it  would  be  nearer  the  truth 
to  say  that  it  pleases  because  we  desire  it.  In  not 
a  few  cases,  and  those  not  the  least  important,  we 
find  the  value  in  the  desire  itself  rather  than  in  any 
conscious  gratification.  In  these  cases  we  will  our- 
selves rather  than  the  object.  All  such  willing  is 
conditioned  by  some  ideal  of  what  we  wish  to  be, 
rather  than  by  the  sole  thought  of  something  ob- 
jective which  we  want  for  its  own  sake.  It  may 
be  an  ideal  of  vanity  or  of  excellence,  but  whatever 
its  contents,  this  ideal  is  the  implicit  condition  and 
the  regulative  norm  both  of  the  desire  and  of  the 
volition.  How  we  can  form  ideals  and  thus  con- 
stitute our  chief  objects  of  desire,  or  how  self-con- 
sciousness can  modify  the  mechanical  and  passive 
consciousness,  is  beyond  all  telling,  but  none  the 
less  is  it  among  the  most  palpable  facts  of  our  inner 
life.  We  are  under  no  obligation  to  tell  how  a  fact 
is  made,  or  how  it  can  be  a  fact,  but  we  are  bound 
to  let  a  fact  be  a  fact,  even  if  we  cannot  explain  it. 
This  long  psychological  excursion  was  necessary 
in  order  to  understand  the  part  played  by  deter- 
ministic   hedonism    in    ethical   speculation.     It  is 


64  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

partly  due  to  that  love  of  simplicity  which  has  led 
to  so  much  verbalism  and  error  in  philosophy. 
For  the  rest,  it  is  the  outcome  of  that  passion  for 
exiDlaining  which  has  given  us  so  many  elephants 
and  tortoises  under  the  earth.  Until  some  critical 
power  is  developed,  it  is  nothing  against  an  expla- 
nation that  it  leads  to  nothing  or  cancels  itself. 
The  selfishness  inherent  in  the  theory  is  escaped  by 
unwittingly  substituting  for  the  individual  pleasure, 
which  is  all  the  theory  provides  for,  a  universal 
hedonism,  or  the  greatest  good  of  all  concerned.  It 
has  even  ventured  to  jmrade  as  the  Golden  Eule  in 
a  scientific  form  on  the  strength  of  this  ambiguity. 
Deterministic  hedonism  is  ruled  out  by  the  con- 
ditions of  rational  life.  We  come  now  to  the  second 
claim  mentioned,  that  pleasure  is  the  only  rational 
end  of  action.  This  claim  is  already  implicitly  set 
aside.  It  overlooks  the  difference  between  the 
pleasures  of  the  passive  sensibility  in  which  self- 
hood has  no  part,  and  the  satisfactions  arising  from 
self-assertion  and  self-realization.  The  race  when 
at  all  developed  has  always  held  the  latter  to  be  the 
only  worthy  goods  of  life,  and  has  looked  upon  the 
former  as  something  to  be  permitted,  indeed,  but 
not  to  be  elevated  into  importance.  Unless  care- 
fully controlled,  there  is  always  something  of  the 
animal  about  them.  And  although  pleasure-seek- 
ing has  been  commended  and  recommended  by  a 
vast  deal  of  theory,  the  pleasure-seeker  or  the  j^leas- 
ure-lover  has  never  commanded  esteem  or  admira- 
tion. There  is  a  universal  practical  conviction  that 
the  worth  of  life  does  not  lie  in  that  direction.     No 


THE   GOOD  G5 

amount  of  passive  pleasure  satisfies,  either  as  an 
aim  or  as  a  possession.  Such  a  thing  remains  ex- 
ternal to  selfhood  and  to  self-realization.  We  our- 
selves are  not  advanced  or  enlarged  therehy.  We 
come  no  nearer  to  anything  which  we  admire,  or 
reverence,  or  desire  to  be.  We  see  that  one  could 
have  all  these  things  and  lose  himself.  One  could 
have  them  all  and  be  a  fit  object  of  universal  con- 
tempt. Indeed,  one  great  way  in  which  men  make 
shipwreck  of  manhood  is  the  pursuit  of  pleasure  as 
a  supreme  end ;  while  a  pleasure-seeking  people  is 
on  its  way  to  shame  and  national  destruction.  We 
must  say,  then,  that  while  passive  pleasures  form 
a  natural  part  of  our  lives  and  in  their  place  may 
rightly  be  sought,  no  sufficient  end  of  life  can  be 
found  in  them.  And,  indeed,  there  has  never  been 
any  practical  doubt  on  this  point.  Theoretical 
hedonism  is  little  more  than  a  verbal  puzzle  which 
confuses  many  but  convinces  none. 

Passive  pleasures  cannot  furnish  a  sufficient  aim 
of  life  because  of  the  active  nature  of  man,  and 
also  because  of  the  nature  of  self-consciousness 
which  makes  it  necessary  to  refer  conduct  to  some 
ideal  of  self  as  its  norm  and  law.  Isolated  pleas- 
ures also  cannot  furnish  a  rational  ideal,  as  they 
leave  us  without  any  principle  which  shall  unify 
the  complexity  of  life  and  abide  through  its  suc- 
cessive stages.  Hence  the  hedonistic  view  is  gen- 
erally abandoned  for  the  eudemonistic,  according 
to  which  happiness  is  proposed  as  the  end  and  aim 

of  conduct,  happiness  being  taken  in  the  sense  of 
5 


66  PRINCIPLES  OP  ETHICS 

abiding  well-being  as  distinct  from  isolated  and 
momentary  pleasures.  This  view  may  be  high  or 
low  according  to  the  view  v/e  take  of  hajopiness. 

It  is,  then,  rational  and  right  to  seek  happiness ;  in- 
deed, no  school  of  ethical  writers  ever  proposed  im- 
happiness  as  a  final  end  of  action.  Even  the  ascetics, 
who  have  repudiated  pleasure  or  happiness  as  an 
aim  of  life,  have  taken  these  terms  in  a  low  sense ; 
and  the  repudiation  has  rested  upon  the  conviction, 
either  speculative  or  religious,  that  a  truer  well- 
being  is  thus  secured ;  and,  considering  the  outcome 
of  a  pleasure-seeking  life,  very  much  might  be  said 
for  that  view.  It  is,  therefore,  idle  rant  to  belabor 
ascetic  and  religious  systems  of  morality  as  enemies 
of  happiness.  The  point  of  difference  lies  not  in 
viewing  happiness  as  the  general  aim  of  action,  but 
in  determining  what  true  happiness  may  consist  in. 

The  difficulty  with  eudemonism  is  not  that  it  is 
false,  but  rather  that  it  is  a  barren  truism.  We  are 
jjermitted  to  seek  happiness,  but  until  we  know  in 
what  that  happiness  consists  we  are  no  better  off 
than  before.  The  view  is  so  general  as  to  embrace 
all  ethical  systems,  and  it  is  so  vague  as  to  furnish 
no  guidance  whatever.  We  may  conceive  happi- 
ness to  be  revealed  in  the  i^assive  sensibility,  and 
then  the  problem  of  ethics  would  be  to  find  the  best 
way  of  realizing  such  happiness.  Or  we  may  sup- 
pose happiness  to  consist  in  external  success,  and 
then  the  problem  of  ethics  would  be  to  find  its  con- 
ditions. The  problem  could  be  formulated  in  the 
question.  How  to  get  on? 

Or  we  may  conceive  happiness  to  be  conditioned 


THE  GOOD  67 

not  only  by  objective  circumstances,  but  also  Ijy 
internal  laws  and  ideals.  In  this  case,  no  amount 
of  prudential  calculation  could  solve  the  ethical 
problem;  and  we  should  have  to  take  account  of 
the  nature  of  the  subject  also.  If  this  nature 
should  involve  the  presence  of  a  special  moral  en- 
dowment, the  problem  would  be  still  more  com- 
plex. We  should  then  have  natural  goods  spring- 
ing from  the  simple  sensibility,  and  others  arising 
from  the  moral  nature.  All  of  these  problems  are 
untouched  by  the  general  claim  that  happiness  is 
the  end  of  action. 

We  may,  then,  suppose  that  happiness  is  revealed 
(1)  in  momentary  pleasures,  (2)  in  the  non-moral 
satisfactions  of  experience  and  especially  in  those  of 
external  success  and  comfort,  and  {?>)  in  these  plus 
some  specific  moral  satisfaction  arising  from  the  reac- 
tion of  the  personality  upon  itself.  In  the  first  view 
the  aim  of  life  would  be  to  attain  the  largest  possible 
amount  of  pleasure.  The  second  view  w^ould  differ 
from  the  first  chiefly  in  introducing  somewhat 
more  of  unity  into  life  both  in  its  contemporaneous 
and  in  its  successive  activities.  The  third  view  often 
differs  from  the  first  two  by  putting  true  happiness 
solely  in  the  moral  nature  and  ignoring  all  other 
forms  of  happiness.  That  is,  virtue  is  the  chief  and 
only  good,  and  happiness  is  left  out  of  view  as  being 
no  object  of  moral  action. 

At  first  sight  the  last  view  accords  fairly  well 
with  the  common  conscience.  It  is  natural,  of 
course,  to  seek  for  happiness,  but  we  seem  to  be 
moral  only  when  we  are  aiming  to  be  virtuous. 


68  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

We  are  under  two  laws,  one  of  conscience  and  one 
of  happiness ;  and  ethics  concerns  itself  only  with 
the  former.  This  division  of  life  between  con- 
science and  self-interest  is  very  promising  until  an 
attempt  is  made  to  survey  and  determine  their 
respective  jurisdiction.  Then  the  division  of  labor 
turns  out  to  be  impossible.  However  clear  and 
self-sufficing  the  law  of  duty  may  seem  in  the  fa- 
miliar circumstances  of  a  settled  life,  both  the  com- 
mon conscience  and  the  intuitional  theorist  find 
themselves  groping  when  the  conditions  are  greatly 
changed.  Then  they  are  forced  to  fall  back  upon 
consequences  and  tendencies  to  find  their  way.  The 
pursuit  of  virtue  also  in  abstraction  from  the  nat- 
ural goods  of  life  proves  to  be  bootless,  if  not  alto- 
gether mythical.  A'irtue,  in  the  sense  of  formal 
rightness,  is  an  imj)ortant  factor  of  the  good,  but  un- 
less supplemented  by  material  rightness  and  a  large 
development  of  life  and  faculty,  it  does  not  bring 
us  very  far.  Such  virtue  might  be  allied  with  pro- 
found ignorance  and  a  complete  lack  of  high  devel- 
opment ;  and,  how^ever  we  might  esteem  it  as  virtue, 
we  could  never  praise  it  as  an  ideal  state.  Igno- 
rance, weakness,  narrowness,  dulness  can  never  be 
consecrated  or  elevated  by  any  amount  of  good  in- 
tentions. The  poverty  of  ideas,  the  low  mentality, 
the  limited  sympathy  drag  the  moral  nature  itself 
down  into  abjectness  and  squalor.  Good  illustra- 
tion is  found  in  the  moral  and  religious  condition  of 
the  peasantry  of  eastern  and  southeastern  Europe. 

Whenever  we  laud  virtuous  character,  thus  han- 
dicapped, we  implicitly  compare  it  with  unfaithful- 


THE   OOOD  69 

ness  in  some  one  more  highly  endowed,  and  praise 
it  as  superior;  and  we  also  commonly  have  in  mind 
the  thought  of  a  better  life  where  the  disabilities 
are  removed.  The  dull  mind  becomes  enlarged 
and  enlightened;  and  Lazarus  goes  to  Abraham's 
booom. 

It  is  becoming  clear  that  as  long  as  we  remain 
among  these  abstractions  of  the  good,  happiness, 
etc.,  we  shall  never  get  on.  In  the  next  chapter 
we  shall  seek  to  show  that  no  system  of  ethics  can 
escape  appealing  to  some  ideal  standard  which  shall 
fix  the  permissible  meaning  of  these  terms.  At 
present,  though  we  are  unable  to  give  an  exhaustive 
definition  of  the  good,  a  formal  one  is  possible  as 
follows : 

The  ideal  good  is  conscious  life  in  the  full  devel- 
opment of  all  its  normal  possibilities ;  and  the  actual 
good  is  greater  or  less  as  this  ideal  is  more  or  less 
approximated.  For  man  the  attainment  of  this 
good  involves  the  perfection  of  individual  life  and  of 
social  relations.  For  man  the  good  is  perfectly  real- 
izable only  in  and  through  the  co-working  of  the  com- 
munity; indeed,  the  good  exists  mainly  in  a  social 
form.  Hence  virtue  itself  largely  takes  on  the  form 
of  working  for  the  common  good ;  and  unselfishness 
is  often  set  forth  as  the  chief  if  not  the  sole  virtue. 

The  realization  of  normal  human  possibilities  is, 
then,  the  only  conception  possible  of  human  good. 
This  is  true  even  if  we  adopt  a  mystical  religious 
view,  as,  for  instance,  that  God  is  the  supreme 
good ;  for  plainly  in  such  a  view  there  is  the  im- 


70  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

plicit  assumption  that  thus  we  should  reach  the 
highest  and  truest  spiritual  life.  These  goods  fore- 
shadowed in  our  nature  become  moral  goods  only 
as  the  free  person  sees  them  in  their  value  and  ob- 
ligation, and  loyally  devotes  himself  to  their  reali- 
zation. In  this  way  the  natural  good  acquires  the 
moral  form  of  the  good  will,  and  the  good  will  ac- 
quires a  worthy  task  and  content.  The  outcome 
is  moralized  humanity,  or  the  moralized  human 
person  in  a  moralized  society,  and  this  is  the  highest 
good  possible  to  us. 

And  here  seems  to  be  a  good  place  to  repeat  what 
has  been  said  about  the  impossibility  of  separating 
the  good  will  from  the  natural  goods  of  our  constitu- 
tion. The  centre  of  character  is  indeed  found  in  the 
will  to  do  right,  and  it  cannot  be  too  much  empha- 
sized. Where  it  is  present,  other  lacks  may  be  ex- 
cused ;  and  where  it  is  absent  nothing  else  can  take  its 
place.  The  will  to  do  right  is  also  possible  to  every 
one  and  in  all  circumstances.  With  it  every  one 
can  make  a  beginning,  and  all  may  meet  on  the 
plane  of  a  common  faithfulness.  The  ignorant,  the 
poor,  the  savage,  the  imbecile  may  be  faithful  to 
their  ideal  of  right ;  and  thereby  they  win  the  ap- 
proval of  all  moral  beings.  This  does  not  imply 
their  j^erfection  in  any  sense,  but  only  a  right  atti- 
tude of  will  toward  righteousness;  and  this  fur- 
nishes the  indispensable  condition  of  all  moral  de- 
velopment. So  much  is  possible  to  every  one ;  less 
than  this  can  be  accepted  from  none.  But  this  is 
only  the  form  of  the  moral  good ;  the  contents  must 
be  sought  in  the  unfolding  and  realizing  of  the  nor- 


THE   GOOD  71 

mal  possibilities  of  humanity.  Not  only  must  the 
evil  will  be  exorcised  for  the  attainment  of  ideal 
humanity,  but  ignorance  also,  and  superstition,  and 
disease,  and  the  thousand  things  which  hinder  full 
and  perfect  life.  It  is  at  this  point  that  asceticism 
and  monasticism  have  made  their  fearful  blunders. 
They  have  sought  to  cultivate  the  holy  will  apart 
from  the  natural  objects  for  its  exercise  which  are 
set  in  our  constitution.  The  result  was  as  unsaintly 
as  it  was  unlovely  and  unhappy.  If  on  the  one 
hand,  the  natural  life  often  fails  to  rise  to  a  moral 
plane  and  remains  on  an  animal  level,  the  moral 
life,  on  the  other  hand,  by  withdrawing  from  the 
natural  life  has  often  become  so  narrow  and  arti- 
ficial as  to  be  distinctly  an  enemy  of  humanity. 
We  see  this  in  the  paradoxes  of  the  Stoics,  in  the 
insane  excesses  of  religious  asceticism,  and  in  the 
frequent  disparagement  of  intellectual  and  other 
normal  human  interests  by  religious  teachers.  In 
the  lack  of  critical  insight,  the  blind,  instinctive 
push  of  life  whereby  every  part  of  our  nature  has 
maintained  itself  has  been  the  salvation  of  humanity 
against  the  encroachments  of  narrow  moral  and 
religious  theories  which  aimed  at  making  saints 
rather  than  men.  In  general,  religious  ethics  is 
very  apt  to  show  an  ascetic  tendency.  It  is  always 
easier  to  be  extreme  than  to  be  moderate.  To  gain 
the  world  were  nothing  if  the  soul  were  lost ;  and 
as  dangers  to  religious  interests  are  always  arising 
out  of  life,  its  pleasures  and  pursuits,  the  religious 
temper,  in  lack  of  knowledge,  is  pretty  sure  to 
13rompt  to  asceticism  as  the  best  solution  of  the 


72  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

problem.  Perhaps,  too,  a  certain  tinge  of  asceticism 
is  desirable  in  all  cases  where  moral  insight  and 
self-control  have  not  been  largely  developed.  Often 
the  moral  development  is  so  slight  that  any  great 
measure  of  natural  goods  is  damaging.  Wealth, 
leisure,  learning,  music,  taste,  beauty,  serve  to 
dwarf  the  soul  when  there  is  not  moral  force  enough 
to  assimilate  them.  But  moral  progress  will  not 
be  reached  by  withdrawing  from  these  things,  but 
by  strengthening  the  ruling  jDower.  The  things 
themselves  are  necessary  for  the  well-being  of  the 
race;  and  to  war  against  them  is  to  war  against 
civilization.  Next  to  the  weak  and  wicked  will, 
the  lack  of  these  things  is  the  great  obstacle  to  hu- 
man progress.  The  race  is  too  poor,  too  ignorant, 
and  has  too  little  leisure  from  providing  for  purely 
animal  needs  to  make  anything  like  ideal  human 
life  possible. 

But  we  must  not  take  leave  of  this  subject  with- 
out once  more  emphasizing  the  fact  that  the  centre 
of  gravity  of  the  good  lies  within  the  person  him- 
self ;  and  that  within  the  person  the  central  element 
of  the  good  is  the  righteous  will.  This  is  the  high- 
est, the  best,  the  only  sacred  thing.  And  we  are 
perj)etually  brought  back  to  the  importance  of  this 
emphasis  by  seeing  the  ease  with  which  men  lose 
their  true  selves  in  the  search  for  external  gratifica- 
tions. High  powers  in  the  service  of  ignoble  aims, 
external  forms  and  ceremonies  cut  loose  from  the 
living  will  to  do  right,  the  multitude  of  actions 
done  to  be  seen  of  men — all  emphasize  the  need  of 
perpetually  recurring  to  the  good  will  as  the  centre 


THE   GOOD  73 

of  the  moral  personality.  A  man's  life  consisteth 
not  in  possessions,  nor  even  in  knowledge.  With- 
out the  good  will,  these  things  would  profit  him 
essentially  nothing.  But  on  the  other  hand  it  is 
none  the  less  true  that  the  good  will  is  not  sufficient 
unto  itself.  It  needs  a  field  for  development  and 
realization ;  and  this  field  is  found,  not  created,  by 
the  good  will.  This  field  consists  in  the  potentiali- 
ties of  our  nature,  but  these  potentialities  in  turn 
depend  for  their  realization  in  any  high  degree  upon 
the  existence  of  a  developed  social  order  and  also 
upon  the  co-working  of  the  physical  world  itself. 
Learning,  science,  wealth,  and  a  good  degree  of 
mastery  of  cosmic  forces  are  necessary  to  secure  for 
man  anything  approaching  an  ideal  existence  even 
upon  the  earth.  If  these  things  are  present  in 
good  measure  in  the  community,  the  individual  may 
share  in  their  results  v/ithout  personal  possession ; 
but  when  they  are  lacking  both  in  the  community 
and  for  the  individual,  we  have  simple  savagery. 
And  for  man,  as  a  dependent  being,  the  attainment 
of  his  highest  good  will  always  depend  on  some- 
thing besides  virtue,  and  on  something  beyond  him- 
self. Virtue  is  not  sufficient  unto  itself.  The  good 
will  cannot  get  far  unless  it  finds  itself  in  a  system 
which  is  adjusted  to,  and  supplements,  its  efforts. 
This  is  the  ground  of  Kant's  argument  for  a  world 
power  which  makes  for  righteousness  and  unites 
virtue  and  happiness  in  the  supreme  good.  It  is 
also  the  basis  of  the  resthetic  and  religious  demand 
for  heaven,  so  far  as  heaven  consists  in  external 
conditions.     For  while  ideal  character  may  be  possi- 


74  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

ble  under  untoward  circumstances,  ideal  life  is  im- 
possible, except  in  an  ideal  environment.  A  world 
like  the  present,  where  the  creature  is  most  em- 
phatically "made  subject  to  vanity,"  while  serving 
as  a  training  school  for  character,  can  never  be  the 
scene  of  perfect  and  ideal  life.  When  science  has 
done  its  best,  and  when  the  evil  will  has  been  finally 
exercised,  there  will  still  remain,  as  fixed  features 
of  earthly  life,  physical  and  mental  decay,  bereave- 
ment and  death ;  and  none  can  view  a  life  in  which 
these  are  inevitable  as  having  attained  an  ideal 
form. 

Our  general  conception  of  the  good  implies  that 
duty  has  all  fields  for  its  own.  It  is  our  duty  to 
helf),  so  far  as  we  can,  whatever  ministers  to  the 
enlargement  and  enriching  of  life,  and  it  is  our  duty 
to  refrain  from  and  prevent,  so  far  as  may  be, 
whatever  hinders  the  attainment  of  the  largest  and 
fullest  life.  There  is  no  field  of  the  morally  indif- 
ferent, or,  if  there  be,  it  is  a  vanishing  quantity. 
The  moral  nature  claims  to  rule  over  every  depart- 
ment of  life,  over  trade,  art,  literature,  politics,  not, 
however,  in  the  interest  of  a  narrow  and  ascetic 
morality,  but  in  the  interest  of  that  large,  free, 
ideal  human  life  to  which  all  our  activity  should 
minister.  Matthew  Arnold  made  it  a  frequent 
charge  against  Puritanism  that  it  recognized  only 
moral  interests,  whereas  life  has  many  interests  be- 
sides morality.  Here  the  critic  and  the  criticised 
were  about  equally  at  fault.  Life  certainly  has 
other  than  moral  interests  as  these  are  understood 
by  an  other-worldly   religiosity;   but  nothing  can 


THE   GOOD  75 

outrank  a  morality  whose  aim  is  the  attainment  of 
the  hirgest  and  fullest  life,  as  Mr.  Arnold  himself 
elsewhere  confesses.  And  we  need  not  be  ashamed 
to  carry  into  our  thought  of  that  life  whatever  is 
normal  to  humanity.  It  is  a  mistaken  refinement 
or  exaltation  which  would  turn  away  from  any 
such  normal  element  as  common  or  unclean. 


CHAPTER   III 

NEED    OF   A   SUBJECTIVE    STANDARD 

At  the  beginning  of  the  last  chapter,  while  pro- 
fessing full  confidence  in  the  results  reached,  we 
also  expressed  a  doubt  as  to  their  practical  value. 
That  doubt  still  remains  unresolved.  Somehov/ 
or  other  we  fail  to  get  on.  Some  mistaken  psychol- 
ogy has  been  ruled  out,  but  about  the  only  positive 
result  this  far  achieved  is  the  vindication  of  life  as 
a  whole  as  the  field  and  subject  of  ethics.  Our 
moral  task  is  seen  to  be  to  develop  this  life  into  its 
ideal  form ;  and  ethics  is  forbidden  to  call  anything 
common  or  unclean  which  life  involves  as  one  of  its 
component  factors.  To  do  so  is  absurd  from  the 
standpoint  of  reason,  while  from  the  standpoint  of 
theism  it  is  little,  if  any,  short  of  blasphemy.  But 
when  we  come  to  apply  these  conclusions  to  the 
practical  guidance  of  life,  we  are  rather  surprised 
to  find  how  little  help  they  give.  We  are  per- 
mitted, and  even  commanded,  to  seek  happiness  and 
good ;  but  when  we  inquire  what  this  happiness  is, 
we  begin  again  to  grope.  We  find  men  pursuing 
happiness  in  forms  repudiated  by  the  moral  nature. 
We  find  false  happiness  and  true  happiness;  and 
no  quantitative  standard  serves  to  distinguish  them. 

The  fact  is,  we  are  all  at  sea  until  we  appeal  to  some 

76 


NEED   OF   A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  77 

ideal  conception  or  inner  law  which  shall  interpret 
to  us  the  permissible  meaning  of  our  terms.  Not 
all  happiness,  but  normal  happiness — not  all  good, 
but  the  true  good,  are  to  be  the  end  of  action ;  and 
to  discover  what  these  are  we  have  to  fall  back  on 
some  form  of  moral  insight.  To  bring  out  this  fact 
is  the  end  of  the  present  chapter. 

If  we  should  make  the  actual  happiness  of  the 
actual  man  the  justifying  ground  of  action,  it 
would  follow  that  whatever  pleases  any  one  is  right 
for  that  one,  so  long  and  so  far  as  it  pleases. 
No  matter  where  the  pleasure  might  be  found,  in 
sensuality  or  cruelty,  it  would  still  be  justified  so 
long  as  it  pleased.  Every  one  would  be  a  law  to 
himself;  that  is,  there  would  be  no  law.  If  we 
sought  to  mend  the  matter  by  bringing  in  legal  and 
social  pains  and  penalties,  we  should  only  make  it 
worse ;  for  then  we  should  have  arbitrary  violence, 
in  addition  to  our  ethical  individualism.  In  both 
cases  moral  law  would  vanish. 

This  individualism  in  its  purity  has  never  been 
practically  held  by  any  one,  and  indeed  never  can 
be.  The  sturdiest  theoretical  denier  of  universal 
moral  law  would  be  indignant  if  his  neighbors 
should  take  him  at  his  word  and  repudiate  all  moral 
law  in  dealing  with  him.  Hence  all  thinkers,  in 
distinction  from  the  tedious  airers  of  conceits  and 
paradoxes,  have  alwaj'S  felt  the  need  of  providing  for 
some  kind  of  universality  and  of  making  a  distinc- 
tion between  the  actual  pleasure,  which  may  or  may 
not  be  allowed,  and  the  ideal  good  which  is  the  real 
ground  of  obligation.     This  was  the  case  even  with 


78  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

Epicurus.  He  made  pleasure  indeed  the  end  of  life, 
but  he  demanded  so  much  wisdom  and  self-control 
in  its  pursuit,  and  made  pleasure  itself  so  largely  a 
negative  thing,  that  one  would  be  sorely  mistaken 
who  should  look  upon  him  as  advocating  a  life  of 
boisterous  sensuality.  A  life  according  to  Epicurus 
would  not  be  much  more  exciting  than  a  life  ac- 
cording to  the  Stoics.  Here  reappears  the  fact 
mentioned  in  a  previous  chapter,  that  the  rational 
pursuit  of  pleasure  or  happiness  must  always  be  so 
bound  up  with  the  observance  of  law,  as  to  be  about 
as  irksome  to  passion  and  desire  as  the  categorical 
imperative  itself. 

This  matter  has  been  very  much  complicated  by 
certain  psychological  exigencies  which  are  no  proper 
part  of  the  moral  question.  In  the  first  j^lace,  the 
goods  ethics  has  often  been  built  upon  a  selfish  psy- 
chology v/hich  held  that  action  can  proceed  only 
from  a  desire  for  personal  happiness.  When,  then, 
one  seems  to  be  seeking  another's  happiness,  it  is 
only  an  indirect  way. of  seeking  one's  own.  Hence 
an  ethics  based  upon  this  psychology  must  either 
flout  the  universal  ethical  demand  for  unselfish  ac- 
tion, or  else  it  must  make  a  show  of  deducing  such 
action  from  the  elements  of  purely  selfish  desire. 
The  former  alternative  was  impossible  because  of 
the  sharp  contradiction  of  both  conscience  and  con- 
sciousness ;  and  the  latter  alternative  was  hopeless 
except  to  confusion. 

The  alliance,  however,  of  the  goods  ethics  with 
selfish  psychology  is  purely  accidental.  This  ethics 
simply  claims  that  the  obligating  ground  of  action 


NEED   OP  A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  79 

must  be  in  the  good  to  which  it  is  directed ;  and  this 
claim  is  vahd,  no  matter  what  our  psychology. 

In  the  next  place,  the  question  has  been  compli- 
cated and  confused  by  the  need  of  sensationalist 
ethics  of  escaping  the  admission  of  native  moral  in- 
sight on  the  part  of  the  mind.  It  proposes,  there- 
fore, to  deduce  all  ethical  principles  from  experi- 
ence, making  consequences  the  final  test.  The 
determination  of  right  and  wrong,  then,  is  by  a  cal- 
culation of  anticipated  consequences  on  the  basis  of 
experience. 

Here  is  another  accidental  alliance.  The  goods 
ethics,  as  such,  is  independent  of  sensational  psy- 
chology. It  claims  that  material  Tightness  is  de- 
termined by  relation  to  well-being,  and  that  our 
duty  is  to  find  and  follow  this  material  Tightness. 
Formal  Tightness,  or  virtue,  is  simply  the  will  to 
realize  this  material  Tightness  so  far  as  we  appre- 
hend it.  But  this  claim  is  entirely  compatible  with 
the  intuitive  perception  of  the  validity  of  certain 
formal  principles.  The  goods  ethics  may  even  ad- 
mit the  system  of  intuitive  principles,  and  claim 
only  to  find  their  rational  ground  and  to  criticise 
their  application.  Indeed,  psychology  shows  that 
there  are  elements  in  conduct  which  are  not  the 
products  of  the  individual  experience,  and  that  the 
individual  is  born  with  implicit  tendencies  with  re- 
lation to  conduct  as  well  as  with  relation  to  taste, 
appetite,  growth,  etc.  Without  something  of  the 
kind  it  is  hard  to  see  how  most  men  could  be  moral 
beings  at  all.  Their  mental  immaturity  and  lack 
of  knowledge  forbid  any  thought  of  determining 


80  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

right  and  wrong  for  themselves  by  a  calculation  of 
consequences ;  and  they  could  only  blindly  submit 
to  the  authority  of  others.  On  any  theory  of  the 
individuars  origin,  these  innate  tendencies,  so  far 
as  general,  would  show  a  certain  adjustment  to  the 
well-being  of  the  person  and  of  society ;  and  there 
would  be  a  risk  in  contravening  them  except  for 
manifest  and  solid  reasons. 

But  if  all  this  were  admitted,  all  that  would  be 
overthrown  would  be  the  sensationalist's  claim  that 
the  individual  life  begins  entirely  indefinite  and  in- 
different, and  awaits  all  direction  from  without. 
This  claim  is  totally  incompatible  with  any  law  of 
heredity  or  progress,  and  is  indeed  a  fossil  from  the 
pre-critical  stage  of  thought.  But  the  contention  of 
the  goods  ethics  remains  undisturbed.  All  that  is 
shown  is  that  life  begins  spontaneously  and  in- 
stinctively without  the  aid  of  our  logic  and  critical 
wisdom ;  but  it  is  not  shown  that,  after  life  has  be- 
gun, logic  and  reflection  may  not  have  a  work  to 
do  in  guiding  and  restraining  even  the  instinctive 
activities.  The  position  in  ethics  is  precisely  what 
it  is  in  hygienic  and  sanitary  matters.  Our  appe- 
tites develop  spontaneously  from  the  nature  of  the 
organism,  and  there  is  a  general  adjustment  be- 
tween them  and  our  physical  well-being.  But  they 
are  not  infallible.  In  any  case  they  need  guidance, 
and  sometimes  they  need  reversal.  In  so  far  as 
they  harmonize  with  our  well-being,  reason  ratifies 
them ;  but  in  so  far  as  they  fall  short  of,  or  tra- 
verse, well-being,  reason  demands  a  readjustment 
and  sometimes  even  an  excision.     In  the  same  way, 


NEED   OF  A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  81 

if  it  were  shown  that  a  system  of  conduct  develops 
spontaneously  and  instinctively  in  life,  reason  would 
have  the  same  task  of  critical  supervision  and  ad- 
justment; and  if  any  principle  were  found  out  of 
adjustment  to  well-being,  reason  could  only  view 
it  as  an  instinct  which  had  lost  its  way,  and  which 
must  be  either  readjusted  or  extirpated.  The  prac- 
tised reader  will  recognize  what  a  fearful  propor- 
tion of  ethical  discussion  has  been  irrelevant  from 
the  failure  to  keep  the  ethical  and  the  psychological 
points  of  view  distinct. 

Returning  from  this  excursion,  we  can  perhaps 
best  get  the  subject  of  this  chapter  before  us  by 
raising  the  question,  Can  we  completely  determine 
our  judgments  of  right  and  wrong  by  what  we 
know  or  anticipate  of  consequences,  or  must  we 
also  have  recourse  to  some  inner  standard  by  which 
consequences  must  be  judged?  The  view  which 
maintains  the  former  position  we  shall  call  the  cal- 
culating ethics.  Historically,  what  is  known  as 
utilitarianism  has  largely  held  this  view.  Pleasure 
is  supposed  to  be  the  only  end  of  action,  and  the 
objects  which  produce  it  are  revealed  in  experience. 
Acts  and  mental  states  are  good  as  they  produce 
pleasure,  and  are  better  only  as  they  produce  more. 
With  these  data  of  experience  we  are  supposed  to 
calculate  our  way  through  life  without  any  help  from 
original  moral  insight,  always  keeping  our  eye  on 
pleasure,  the  chief  and  only  good.  As  a  whole,  utili- 
tarianism has  been  an  incongruous  compound  of  the 

goods  ethics  and  sensational  and  selfish  psychology. 
^     6 


82  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

As  already  pointed  out,  this  view  implies  that  the 
vast  majority  of  the  race  are  to  live  not  by  reason 
but  by  external  authority.  Tutelage,  if  not  slav- 
ery, must  be  their  moral  condition.  One  has  a 
sense  of  the  ludicrous  in  conceiving  the  average 
man  as  working  out  a  moral  theory  by  his  own  rea- 
son. Hence  it  is  hard  to  tell  in  what  his  morality 
would  consist.  A  prudent  regard  for  the  laws 
might  be  enforced  by  easily  understood  penalties; 
but  there  would  be  little  moral  life  involved  in  that. 
This  difficulty  has  commonly  remained  hidden  be- 
cause of  the  fancy  that  man,  rather  than  men,  is 
the  subject  of  moral  law;  and  hence  if  Ave  get  a 
law  for  man,  we  need  take  no  thought  for  men. 
But  men  are  the  real  subjects;  and  when  by  hy- 
pothesis they  have  no  inner  law  and,  in  fact,  have 
so  little  wit  as  to  make  the  notion  of  calculation 
absurd,  it  is  really  somewhat  puzzling  to  tell  in 
what  their  moral  life  consists.  But  supi^osing  this 
difficulty  surmounted,  an  ambiguity  in  the  calcu- 
lating ethics  meets  us  at  the  start  as  follows : 

Consequences  may  be  estimated  for  the  individ- 
ual or  for  society,  ■  In  accordance  with  the  selfish 
psychology  on  wdiich  it  has  generally  built,  it  has 
commonly  started  off  by  referring  to  consequences 
for  the  individual.  This  has  been  all  the  more 
necessary  because  of  the  doctrine  of  desire  which 
made  it  impossible  to  desire  anything  but  one's  own 
pleasure.  In  this  form  the  doctrine  cancels  ethics 
altogether.  Whatever  pleases  is  right,  and  right 
because  it  pleases.  In  that  case,  any  and  every 
form  of  conduct  which  pleases  is  allowable ;  and  a 


NEED   OF  A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  83 

pure  individualism  reappears.  There  is  no  high  or 
low,  noble  or  ignoble,  reverend  or  base.  Some  are 
pleased  with  some  things  and  some  with  other 
things.  The  whole  question  becomes  one  of  taste 
about  which  there  is  no  disputing. 

The  principle  which  makes  actual  happiness  the 
law  of  action  implies,  of  course,  that  it  may  be 
sought  wherever  it  can  be  found.  Hence  if  one 
finds  it  in  sensual  gratification  rather  than  in  men- 
tal effort  and  spiritual  purity,  there  is  no  reason  for 
complaining  of  such  a  course.  The  calculating  eth- 
ics could  only  try  to  show  how  much  the  sensualist 
loses  by  such  a  course ;  but  in  so  doing  it  overlooks 
the  personal  equation  in  matters  of  happiness.  The 
preacher  has  no  better  right  to  judge  for  the  sen- 
sualist than  the  sensualist  has  to  judge  for  the 
preacher.  The  preacher  is  too  cold-blooded  to  sym- 
pathize with  the  sensualist;  and  the  sensualist  is 
too  hot-blooded  to  enjoy  the  tame  pleasures  of  the 
preacher.  If  it  be  said  that  there  are  some  who 
have  tried  both,  and  therefore  can  judge  between 
them,  the  answer  is  double:  (1)  The  trial  took  place 
at  different  periods  of  life  when  the  temperament 
had  changed ;  and  (2)  no  one  has  any  more  right  to 
prescribe  another's  pleasures  than  to  prescribe  his 
favorite  dishes.  This  view  would  make  ethics 
purely  individual  and  destroy  its  universality.  It 
also  fails  to  provide  for  any  such  sense  of  obligation 
as  actually  exists.  Our  pleasures  seem  to  be  largely 
in  our  own  choice  and  to  be  only  to  a  very  limited 
degree  objects  of  obligation. 

If,  then,  persons  should  differ  in  their  judgment 


84  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

of  what  is  in  itself  desirable,  we  should  have  only  a 
difference  of  taste  and  opinion.  There  would  be  no 
ground  for  affirming  a  moral  difference.  And  for 
removing  the  difference  of  opinion,  the  only  resort 
would  be  to  appeal  to  future  consequences.  But 
this,  too,  would  fail  us  unless  we  had  recourse  to 
some  theological  teaching  or  assumption  concerning 
the  future  life.  So  far  as  the  present  life  is  con- 
cerned, a  consideration  of  consequences  would  give 
different  results  in  different  cases.  One  looking  to 
long  life  might  be  held  back  from  sensuality  by 
pointing  out  that  the  end  of  these  things  is  death ; 
although  the  progress  of  hygienic  and  medical 
knowledge  might  make  even  this  doubtful.  But 
another  person  might  well  have  a  yevj  different  ex- 
pectation of  life  because  of  inherited  tendencies  to 
disease,  or  beacuse  of  some  actual  malady ;  and  for 
him  the  calculation  of  visible  consequences  would 
give  a  law  very  different  from  that  yielded  in  the 
former  case.  His  life  being  short  he  might  well 
decide  to  make  it  a  merry  one,  in  the  hope  of  being 
out  of  the  way  before  the  harvest  from  merry  liv- 
ing had  to  be  reaped. 

A  partial  escape  from  these  results  might  be 
found  in  the  claim  that  the  moral  nature  also  must 
be  taken  into  account  in  determining  what  happi- 
ness is.  When  we  duly  consider  this  fact,  and  take 
into  our  estimate  the  joy  of  a  good  conscience  and 
the  pangs  of  remorse,  we  shall  be  able  to  bring  the 
results  of  calculation  into  harmony  with  our  moral 
convictions.  But  this  view  has  many  difficulties.  It 
first  brings  in  a  specific  moral  nature  as  well  as  our 


NEED   OF   A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  85 

non-moral  susceptibilities  to  pain  and  pleasure,  thus 
disturbing  the  purity  of  the  calculating  ethics.  In 
the  next  place,  the  pains  and  j^leasures  of  conscience 
presuppose  a  moral  judgment  concerning  right  and 
wrong,  and  can  never  be  the  ground  of  the  distinc- 
tion. Finally,  the  moral  nature  is  brought  in  only 
as  a  psychological  fact,  and  not  as  an  authorita- 
tive standard.  Its  force  depends  entirely  upon  the 
amount  of  disturbance  it  can  make;  and  it  has  no 
more  authority  than  a  physical  appetite.  But  we 
always  feel  free  to  modify  an  appetite  of  this  kind 
so  far  as  we  are  able,  if  it  prove  troublesome. 
Hence,  this  view  throws  everything  back  into  indi- 
vidualism again.  For,  so  far  as  experience  goes, 
the  performance  of  duty  is  not  a  pleasant  thing  to 
most  of  us.  It  is  rather  a  yoke  and  a  burden  which 
is  neither  easy  nor  light.  Conscience  is  a  poor 
source  of  sentient  comfort.  Of  course  it  pays  to  re- 
gard it  to  the  extent  of  keeping  the  law  and  gain- 
ing the  good  opinion  of  the  neighbors,  but  when  we 
go  beyond  this,  conscience  is  apt  to  become  more 
exigent  and  intolerant,  the  more  attention  we  pay 
to  it.  In  this  larger  sense,  there  is  no  way  of  con- 
necting the  performance  of  duty  with  the  pursuit 
of  happiness  except  by  bringing  in  some  extra-ethi- 
cal sanction.  This  has  generally  appeared  in  the 
form  of  a  doctrine  of  future  rewards  and  punish- 
ments. 

But  with  this  addition  the  doctrine  reduces  con- 
duct to  selfish  prudence.  All  moral  differences  of 
character  vanish  into  distinctions  of  shrewdness. 
There  is  no  place  for  moral  worth  and  dignity,  but 


86  PRINCIPLES  OP  ETHICS 

only  for  hire  and  salary,  loaves  and  fishes.  The 
individual  is  no  law  unto  himself,  and  has  no  law 
within  himself.  Sin  is  a  great  imprudence  because 
of  future  retribution,  but  apart  from  extrinsic  con- 
sequences it  is  not  intrinsically  bad.  Virtue  con- 
sists in  doing  the  will  of  God  for  the  sake  of  ever- 
lasting happiness.  In  such  a  scheme  we  miss  an 
essential  element  of  the  moral  character,  namely, 
the  love  of  goodness  for  itself  and  not  for  its  extrin- 
sic and  adventitious  consequences. 

Finally,  if  i)leasure  give  the  aim  and  law  of  life, 
it  follows  that  the  unpleasurable  may  always  be 
avoided  unless  it  be  supported  by  the  prosjDect  of  a 
greater  pleasure  to  be  reached  or  a  greater  j^ain  to 
be  avoided.  In  particular,  if  any  faculty,  like  con- 
science, should  appear  as  a  disturber  of  our  sentient 
peace,  yet  without  any  very  valuable  rewards  in  its 
hands,  it  might  be  extirpated  as  fast  and  as  far  as 
possible.  Virtue  and  duty  are  to  be  regarded  only 
as  they  coincide  with  actual  hapf)iness ;  and  when- 
ever they  transcend  these  limits,  they  may  be  deci- 
sively set  aside.  And  as  it  is  rational  to  aim  at  our 
own  happiness,  there  is  no  assignable  reason  for 
considering  the  happiness  of  others,  except  so  far 
as  I  see  my  own  advantage  in  it.  In  case  of  irrec- 
oncilable collision,  I  may  set  aside  with  equal  decis- 
ion all  consideration  of  the  claims  of  others.  There 
seems  to  be  no  reason  why  truth  or  justice  should 
be  preferred,  if  we  found  our  advantage  in  the  op- 
posite. Any  and  every  thing  would  be  open  to  us 
to  try  if  they  promised  well,  or  if  there  were  a  good 
chance  of  escaping  any  prospective  results.  Any  skill 


NEED   OP  A  SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  87 

or  violence  which  could  change  consequences  would 
reverse  right  and  wrong.  Such  a  doctrine,  if  it  did 
not  produce,  would  at  least  justify,  any  measure 
of  inward  dishonesty  and  of  outward  faithlessness. 

But  perhaps  this  unsavory  result  is  due  to  having 
confined  our  attention  exclusively  to  the  conse- 
quences for  the  individual.  Possibly  if  we  enlarge 
our  view  and  take  into  account  the  consequences 
for  all  concerned,  these  difficulties  will  disappear. 
This  we  now  proceed  to  do. 

But  at  the  very  outset  the  calculating  ethics 
meets  a  grievous  difficulty  in  setting  up  the  general 
well-being  as  the  end  of  action.  If  it  retains  its 
selfish  psychology  of  desire,  it  is  impossible  for  any 
one  to  aim  at  anything  but  his  own  well-being ;  and 
before  one  can  possibly  aim  at  the  general  well- 
being,  it  must  be  shown  that  his  well-being  and  the 
general  well-being  coincide.  At  best  this  w^ould 
only  give  us  a  wise  selfishness ;  and,  what  is  worse, 
the  coincidence  cannot  be  made  out,  except  in  a 
vague  rhetorical  way.  The  myriads  who  are  prey- 
ing upon  society  owe  such  well-being  as  they  have 
to  the  social  damage  and  evils  which  they  cause  or 
aggravate.  Scarcely  less  absurd  is  the  claim  in  the 
case  of  the  many  who  in  the  name  of  what  they  call 
duty  are  foregoing  many  things  they  ardently  and 
rightly  desire.  The  hopelessly  sick  who  yet  will 
live  on,  are  cared  for.  Imbecile  old  age  is  tended 
and  cherished.  Helpless  and  inefficient  relatives 
are  shouldered  and  carried.  And  meanwhile  life 
and   its   most  precious   opportunities   are   slipping 


88  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

away  unused  because  of  these  hindrances.  It  is 
one  of  the  most  striking  illustrations  of  the  blind 
shamelessness  which  a  one-eyed  devotion  to  a  theory 
can  produce,  that  burden-bearers  such  as  these  are 
told  that  they  are  really  seeking  their  own  pleasure 
in  all  these  sacrifices.  Of  course,  when  the  well- 
being  in  question  is  that  of  posterity,  there  can  be 
no  thought  of  our  sharing  it. 

If  we  retain  the  selfish  theory  of  desire,  there  is 
no  getting  on ;  but  we  are  not  much  better  off  if 
we  give  it  up.  For  in  that  case  we  set  up  the  gen- 
eral well-being  as  an  end,  and  leave  the  obligation 
to  seek  it  very  obscure.  By  hypothesis  there  is  no 
intuitive  perception  of  duty  in  the  case,  and  the  at- 
tempt to  connect  it  with  the  natural  impulse  to  seek 
our  own  happiness  through  the  enlightenment  of 
our  native  selfishness  is  a  failure.  No  selfishness, 
enlightened  or  otherwise,  could  well  engage  us  to 
work  for  future  and  unrelated  generations.  If, 
hereupon,  we  should  insist  that  the  aim  of  action 
should  be  to  secure  the  greatest  amount  of  happi- 
ness for  all  concerned,  we  should  not  mend  matters. 
Such  a  iDrinciple  would  be  excellent  for  the  legisla- 
tor, but  for  the  individual  it  looks  very  like  an  in- 
tuition, and  is  barren  besides.  For,  if  the  matter  is 
purely  quantitative,  my  happiness  counts  for  as 
much  as  another's  in  the  general  sum ;  and  it  is  far 
from  sure  that  I  might  not  most  increase  that  sum  by 
doing  the  best  for  myself,  rather  than  by  costly 
thought  for  others.  Ovid  asks:  "Why  should  one 
give  anything  to  the  poor?  One  deprives  himself 
of  what  he  gives,  and  only  helps  the  other  to  pro- 


NEED   OF   A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  89 

long  a  wretched  existence."  If  it  be  selfish  in  us  to 
decline  to  sacrifice  ourselves  for  others,  how  selfish 
it  is  in  those  others  to  desire,  or  permit,  that  sac- 
rifice. Besides,  as  it  is  only  a  question  of  the  larg- 
est sum  of  happiness,  and  the  present  is  here  and 
certain,  while  the  future  is  distant  and  doubtful,  it 
would  seem  to  be  a  mistake  for  the  present  genera- 
tion to  make  any  sacrifices  for  the  future.  Who 
can  tell  whether  posterity  will  ever  arrive?  But  if 
they  should,  what  a  fine  chance  for  unselfish  delight 
they  will  have,  if  we  now  enjoy  ourselves  as  much 
as  possible,  and  transmit  a  full  report. 

Moreover,  in  treating  the  matter  quantitatively, 
what  shall  assure  us  that  different  men's  pleasures 
are  equal,  or  are  to  weigh  alike?  Might  we  not 
assume  that  the  coarse  pleasures  of  a  thousand 
slaves  weigh  nothing  in  comparison  with  the  com- 
fort and  elegance  of  a  single  master?  Is  it  not  pos- 
sible that  Goethe  ^s  imperial  soul  derived  from  his 
amours  a  rare  and  exquisite  pleasure  which  quite 
outweighs  any  inconvenience  they  may  have  occa- 
sioned their  victims?  Indeed,  we  have  heard,  and 
that  from  a  woman,  that  Shelley's  soul  was  so 
rapt,  so  ethereal,  so  incommensurable,  that  it  is  lit- 
tle less  than  aesthetic  blasphemy  even  to  hint  con- 
demnation of  his  amatory  performances.  In  like 
manner  the  guardian  or  the  trusted  clerk  might 
well  reflect  whether  the  silly  ward,  or  the  old  hunks 
of  a  master,  could  ever  make  such  rare  contribu- 
tions to  the  sum  of  happiness  as  he  himself  could 
do,  with  his  more  (esthetic  and  gifted  nature.  In- 
deed, after  due  reflection,  he  might  even  come  to 


90  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

reproach  himself  with  being  a  traitor  to  the  sum  of 
happiness,  if  he  longer  failed  judiciously  to  avail 
himself  of  his  opportunities  to  increase  it.  But  to 
this  sort  of  thing  there  is  no  end.  If  one  cared  to 
do  it,  a  good  word  might  be  said  even  for  murder 
and  cannibalism,  while  adultery  lends  itself  rarely 
well  to  such  treatment. 

Finally,  the  calculating  ethics  must  decide  wheth- 
er it  aims  to  find  a  rational  ground  for  moral  prin- 
ciples already  discovered  and  possessed,  or  to  deduce 
them  from  experience.  These  two  conceptions  have 
not  been  kept  as  distinct  as  could  be  wished.  It 
has  been  very  common  with  easy-going  utilitarians 
to  point  out  that  the  virtues  are  useful  in  general, 
as  if  that  were  the  whole  of  the  matter.  But  it  is 
very  much  easier  to  show  a  measure  of  utility  for 
the  virtues,  than  it  is  to  deduce  the  virtues  as  un- 
conditionally binding  from  utility.  In  the  former 
case,  we  assume  the  virtues,  show  some  utility,  and 
take  the  rest  on  trust ;  in  which  case  the  purity  of 
the  calculating  ethics  is  somewhat  bedimmed  in  ad- 
vance. For  the  virtues  are  either  referred  to  a 
moral  nature,  or  are  assumed  out  of  hand.  Besides, 
the  notion  of  utility  itself  is  left  very  obscure.  A 
coarse,  objective  utility  is  rejected  by  all  as  insuffi- 
cient ;  and  for  subjective  utility,  we  have  no  measure 
but  the  very  feelings  from  whose  uncertainty  the 
calculating  ethics  promised  to  deliver  us. 

But  if  we  take  the  other  view  and  attempt  to  de- 
duce the  virtues  and  duties,  we  need  to  decide 
whether  we  are  trying  to  prove  general  laws,  or  are 
dealing  with  each  case  on  its  own  merits.     In  the 


NEED  OF  A  SUBJECTIVE  STANDARD  91 

former  case,  we  should  deduce  some  general  princi- 
ple, like  justice,  and  then  we  should  deal  with  spe- 
cial cases  by  subsuming  them  under  the  law.  We 
should  raise  no  question  cf  utility  concerning  the  par- 
ticular case,  but  only  concerning  the  class  to  which 
it  might  belong.  In  the  latter  case  mentioned, 
there  would  be  no  law-giving  classification,  but 
each  case  would  have  to  be  judged  alone.  We 
should  inquire  into  the  probable  outcome  of  each 
case,  taken  by  itself,  and  without  any  prejudice 
from  the  past.  But  in  both  cases  we  should  have 
trouble.  In  the  former,  the  individual  is  subordi- 
nated to  the  universal  in  a  way  which  looks  sadly 
like  an  abandonment  of  calculation  altogether,  and 
it  certainly  is  a  complete  surrender  of  the  selfish 
psychology.  It  is  very  far  from  evident  that  the 
principle  which  applies  to  the  general  is  not  to  be 
applied  to  the  particular;  and  it  is  very  doubtful  if 
the  general  is  true,  if  it  does  not  j^rovide  for  the 
particular.  If  we  say  that  such  a  course  would  lead 
to  moral  anarchy  and  is  hence  to  be  condemned, 
this  would  indeed  be  a  reason  drawn  from  conse- 
quences ;  but  it  cannot  be  drawn  without  assuming 
that  the  individual  has  no  rights  as  against  the 
community;  and  this  is  an  assumption  which  is  in 
sad  need  of  an  intuition,  or  other  support.  Besides, 
the  individual  might  claim  that  the  proposed  course 
which  is  good  for  him  could  not  become  a  public 
damage  unless  it  were  known  and  followed ;  and  this 
might  be  avoided  b}'  due  caution  on  his  part,  or 
possibly  the  act  might  be  such  that  it  never  would, 
or  could,  become  general. 


92  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

But  if  we  take  the  other  view  and  try  each  case 
on  its  own  merits,  we  are  equally  at  sea.  As  we 
cannot  know  all  the  consequences,  we  cannot  know 
whether  an  act  is  right  or  not.  No  question  could 
be  considered  closed;  no  answer  would  be  final. 
Until  we  have  found  how  the  present  case  is  going 
to  turn  out,  its  character  remains  an  open  question ; 
and  if  we  are  in  a  position  to  modify  the  conse- 
quences, we  can  modify  right  and  wrong.  What 
would  be  right  for  a  person  would  depend  on  the  in- 
fluence he  could  bring  to  bear.  What  would  be 
right  for  a  nation  would  dei:)end  on  the  efficiency  of 
its  army  and  navy.  Thus  the  way  is  opened  to  in- 
finite casuistry  and  internal  dishonesty.  If  it  be 
said  that  this  too  is  an  evil,  and  that  a  study  of  con- 
sequences would  forbid  it,  the  answer  is — (1)  It  is  an 
evil  only  to  him  to  whom  it  is  an  evil,  and  (2)  the 
internal  evil  is  largely  dependent  upon  the  conviction 
that  we  have  wilf  u  lly  done  wrong.  Remove  this  con- 
viction, and  the  sense  of  guilt,  remorse,  personal  de- 
merit vanishes ;  and  this  would  be  the  result  on  the 
theory  in  question.  For  these  feelings  arise  only 
after  we  have  acted  against  our  conviction  of  right ; 
whereas  what  is  right  remains,  as  yet,  an  open 
question . 

Mr.  Herbert  Spencer  would  seem  to  be  the  only 
leading  utilitarian  who  is  clear  in  his  own  mind  on 
this  point  of  general  principles  versus  special  cases. 
He  holds  that  it  is  "the  business  of  Moral  Science 
to  deduce  from  the  laws  of  life  and  the  conditions 
of  existence  what  kinds  of  action  necessarily  tend 
to  produce  happiness,  and  what  kinds  to  produce 


NEED    OF   A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  93 

unhappiness.  Having  done  this,  its  deductions  are 
to  be  recognized  as  laws  of  conduct,  and  are  to  be 
conformed  to,  irrespective  of  a  direct  estimation  of 
happiness  or  misery."  *  This  view  Mr.  Spencer  calls 
rational  utilitarianism,  in  distinction  from  empiri- 
cal utilitarianism.  He  reproaches  the  latter  with 
having  no  just  appreciation  of  natural  causation, 
and  complains  that  it  supposes  "  that  in  future,  as 
now,  utility  is  to  be  determined  only  by  the  obser- 
vation of  results ;  and  that  there  is  no  possibility  of 
knowing  by  deduction  from  fundamental  princii)les 
what  conduct  must  be  detrimental  and  what  con- 
duct must  be  beneficial." 

But  for  the  appeal  to  the  professor  of  biology, 
Kant  himself  could  not  ask  for  anything  more  cate- 
gorically imperative,  so  far  as  the  individual  is  con- 
cerned. The  "observation  of  results"  and  the  "di- 
rect estimation  of  happiness  or  misery,"  two  very 
important  matters  for  the  individual,  are  to  be  set 
aside  in  the  name  of  a  dogmatic  deduction  of  what 
^^must  be  detrimental "  or  "beneficial."  It  is  not 
strange  that  the  rank  and  file  of  utilitarians  have 
not  accepted  this  as  orthodox  doctrine. 

Most  of  these  difficulties  would  meet  us  in  trying 
to  determine  what  is  right,  by  pure  calculation, 
even  if  we  should  allow  a  subjective  willingness  to 
do  right  after  it  is  determined.  This  willingness  is 
commonly  assumed  as  a  matter  of  course,  and  for 
one  of  two  reasons.  Sometimes  it  is  taken  for 
granted  that  the  greatest  good  must  determine  the 
will;  and  hence  we  have  only  to  show  men  the  mil- 

*"Data  of  Ethics,"  g21. 


94  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

lennium  to  cause  them  to  rush  for  it.  This  view 
needs  no  discussion.  At  other  times  the  assump- 
tion is  impHcitly  made,  that  it  is  our  undoubted 
duty  to  work  for  the  greatest  good  of  all  concerned. 
It  is  this  assumption  which  explains  the  favor  with 
which  the  calculating  ethics  is  often  received,  and 
which  makes  it  seem  like  the  Golden  Eule  in  an- 
other form.  But  this  assumption  is  not  reached  by 
calculation;  and  indeed  it  is  hard  to  adjust  it  to  a 
calculating  system.  Without  the  assumption,  how- 
ever, the  calculating  ethics  is  probably  the  most 
degrading  and  disastrous  doctrine  ever  broached. 
There  is  absolutely  no  crime  or  baseness  whatever 
for  which  a  pettifogging  intellect  could  not  say 
something  when  suborned  by  a  wicked  heart. 

Here  we  have  a  set  of  very  serious  difficulties  for 
the  calculating  ethics ;  and  its  disciples  have  never 
adequately  considered  them.  The  difficulty  in- 
volved in  deducing  proper  altruism  from  psychologi- 
cal egoism  has  been  avoided,  rather  than  solved,  by 
setting  up  the  greatest  hai^piness  of  all  as  the  end 
of  action.  Bentham  insisted  very  strenuously  on 
the  greatest  happiness  principle,  but  he  never  suc- 
ceeded in  connectiug  it  with  his  selfish  psychology, 
or  in  rescuing  it  from  its  essential  vagueness,  when 
not  interpreted  by  some  authoritative  principle. 
The  most  important  work  of  this  school  has  been 
done  in  the  field  of  legislation  and  political  reform, 
where,  indeed,  the  greatest  happiness  principle  is 
often  the  only  standard  possible,  and  where  its 
meaning  is  sufficiently  clear.    In  this  work  there  vras 


NEED   OF  A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  95 

little  call  to  consider  the  foundations  of  the  princi- 
ple ;  the  main  thing  was  to  apply  it.  This  was  all 
the  easier  from  the  fact  that  Bentham  was  really 
aiming  at  equality  and  the  common  good.  Every 
man  to  count  for  one,  and  no  man  for  more  than  one, 
was  the  principle  of  equality ;  and  the  greatest  hap- 
piness meant  only  the  public  good,  and  not  the  inter- 
est of  a  class,  Bentham  and  his  followers  gained 
prestige  from  their  effective  protest  against  the  many 
stupidities  and  social  iniquities  which  had  claimed 
the  sanction  of  law  and  conscience.  This  was  the 
valuable  part  of  his  work,  and  this  was  quite  inde- 
pendent of  his  bad  psychology. 

Mr.  J.  S.  Mill  has  done  more  than  any  one  else 
to  relieve  the  doctrine  of  its  worst  features,  by  in- 
sisting on  an  essential  difference  of  pleasures,  and 
by  repudiating  all  attempts  to  measure  their  rel- 
ative worth  quantitatively.  The  higher  pleasures 
outrank  the  lower,  and  may  never  be  subordinated 
to  them.  In  this  way  he  sought  to  shut  out  the 
low  forms  of  sensualism,  however  pleasant,  from 
competition  with  the  higher  functions  of  life,  how- 
ever lacking  in  simple  pleasurable  sensations.  Here, 
then,  we  have  a  standard  which  is  not  pleasure, 
and  which  is  not  derived  from  calculation.  This  is 
a  highly  suspicious  conception  for  an  empirical  ethics 
and  a  sensational  psychology ;  so  much  so,  that  Mill's 
critics  have  generally  agreed  in  viewing  it  as  an 
abandonment  of  his  utilitarianism.  Mill,  however, 
found  the  standard,  not  in  any  authoritative  insight 
of  the  soul,  but  in  the  general  agreement  of  men ; 
and  took  no  pains  to  show  that  the  opinion  of  the 


96  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

many  should  bind  the  few.  But,  apart  from  such 
showing,  dictating  what  one  shall  enjoy  is  like 
dictating  what  one  shall  eat. 

That  these  results  are  incompatible  with  all  our 
moral  convictions  is  self-evident;  and  the  escape 
from  them  lies  in  only  one  direction.  If  happiness 
be  the  sole  aim  of  life,  we  can  escape  the  above  con- 
clusions only  by  assuming  that  this  happiness  itself 
has  a  law,  and  that  this  law  is  the  same  for  all  con- 
cerned. Without  the  law,  everything  is  arbitrary ; 
without  the  universality,  everything  is  individual 
whim  and  caprice.  That  is,  we  assume  a  fixed 
constitution  of  things  and  a  normal  nature  of  man; 
and  the  standard  of  appeal  is  not  the  actual  happi- 
ness of  the  actual  man,  but  the  normal  happiness  of 
the  normal  man.  And,  in  order  to  use  this  result,  we 
must  further  assume  some  measure  of  insight  into 
this  normal  happiness  which  shall  serve  as  a  stand- 
ard of  discrimination  between  allowable  and  unal- 
lowable happiness,  by  i:)resenting  some  kind  of  ideal 
in  harmony  with  which  alone  happiness  may  be 
realized.  And,  implicitly  at  least,  every  system  has 
made  this  assumption.  Happiness  arising  from 
degradation  of  nature  has  always  been  abhorred. 
Nothing  could  reconcile  us  to  the  fate  of  Circe's 
swine.  We  object  to  slavery,  not  as  producing  un- 
happiness,  but  as  a  debasement  of  humanity. 

This  applies  to  our  estimate  of  the  good  for  the 
individual.  The  conception  of  the  common  good 
and  the  obligation  to  seek  it  are  equally  beyond 
calculation;  or,  rather,  the  part  which  calculation 
plays  is  only  a  subordinate  one.     This  appears  from 


NEED   OF   A   SUBJECTIVE   STANDARD  97 

the  abject  failure  of  all  attempts  to  deduce  proper 
altruism  from  any  selfish  desire  or  insight  whatever. 

The  duty  ethics  leads  to  the  goods  ethics,  unless 
we  are  content  to  rest  in  a  barren  doctrine  of  good 
intentions ;  and  the  goods  ethics  leads  back  to  the 
duty  ethics,  unless  we  are  content  to  abandon  ethical 
philosophy  altogether.  The  true  ethical  aim  is  to 
realize  the  common  good ;  but  the  contents  of  this 
good  have  to  be  determined  in  accordance  with  an 
inborn  ideal  of  human  worth  and  dignity. 

But  this  conclusion  is  not  to  be  viewed  as  an 
abandonment  of  the  goods  ethics.  In  the  declara- 
tion that  happiness  must  have  a  law,  many  critics 
claim  to  find  a  surrender  of  the  goods  ethics.  This, 
however,  is  a  mistake ;  for  w^hile  happiness  must  have 
a  law,  the  law  must  lead  to  hajDpiness.  If  it  sets 
aside  a  given  form  of  happiness,  it  must  be  in  the 
name  of  a  higher  and  truer  well-being.  Every 
ethical  system  has  to  fall  back  upon  some  form  of 
moral  insight  to  interpret  its  principles.  A  life  ac- 
cording to  nature,  or  according  to  reason,  or  in 
harmony  with  the  golden  mean,  pleasure,  happiness, 
greatest  happiness  of  the  greatest  number — all  of 
these  aims  are  vague,  until  we  allow  the  mind  to  fix 
their  permissible  meaning.  The  goods  ethics  is  no 
worse  off  in  this  respect  than  any  other  system. 

7 


CHAPTER  IV 

SUBJECTIVE    ETHICS 

The  impossibility  of  solving  the  ethical  problem 
by  general  notions  about  the  good,  pleasure,  and 
happiness  has  abundantly  appeared.  When  we 
make  any  of  these  basal,  we  at  once  find  ourselves 
compelled  to  appeal  to  some  ideal  conception,  or  inner 
law,  which  shall  interpret  to  us  the  permissible  mean- 
ings of  our  terms.  As  was  pointed  out  in  the  last 
chapter,  not  all  happiness  but  normal  happiness, 
not  all  good  but  the  true  good,  not  the  things  which 
do  please  but  the  things  which  should  please,  are  to 
be  the  aim  of  action ;  and  to  discover  what  these 
are,  we  have  to  fall  back  upon  some  form  of  moral 
insight.  We  must  now  inquire  into  the  form  and 
contents  of  this  inner  law.  This  may  be  called  sub- 
jective ethics,  as  being  the  law  founded,  not  in  a 
consideration  of  objective  consequences  but  in  the 
nature  and  insight  of  the  moral  subject  himself,  or 
as  being  the  law  which  the  moral  subject  imposes 
on  himself.  This  inquiry  also  concerns  a  more 
familiar  part  of  the  moral  field.  Indeed,  the  work 
thus  far  done  has  so  little  connection  with  custom- 
ary moral  ideas,  that  it  would  not  be  surprising  if 
the  unpracticed  reader  failed  to  find  in  it  any  con- 
nection whatever  with  the  moral  life. 

98 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  99 

This  study  of  the  subjective  factor  might  easily 
be  extended  to  take  in  the  whole  field  of  ethical 
psychology.  The  desires  and  emotions,  the  nature 
and  psychological  classification  of  the  moral  faculty 
might  be  duly  considered.  But  for  ethics  proper 
such  study  would  be  only  lost  time  and  labor.  We 
confine  our  attention  to  the  subjective  factor  as 
related  to  the  law  of  duty. 

It  would  be  amazingly  convenient,  both  theoreti- 
cally and  practically,  if  we  had  an  infallible  inward 
monitor  to  which  we  might  appeal  on  every  question 
of  right  and  wrong.  A  common  form  of  the  in- 
tuitional ethics  used  to  ascribe  such  an  oracle  to 
the  soul,  under  the  name  of  conscience,  which 
was  supposed  infallibly  to  discriminate  right  from 
wrong,  and  to  issue  infallible  commands.  This 
view,  however,  has  fallen  into  complete  discredit, 
not  only  because  of  the  varying  codes  of  different 
people,  but  also  because  of  the  manifest  absurdities 
which  claim  the  authority  of  conscience  even  among 
ourselves.  Few  atrocities  are  so  great,  and  few  ab- 
surdities are  so  grotesque,  as  not  to  have  had  the 
sanction  of  conscience  at  one  time  or  another.  This 
is  notably  the  case  with  the  ecclesiastical  conscience, 
which  has  varied  all  the  way  from  the  puerile  to 
the  diabolical.  We  must,  then,  analyze  somewhat 
the  concrete  moral  product,  if  we  would  find  the 
principles  which  underlie  it. 

The  most  general  moral  fact  is  the  recognition  of 
a  difference  between  right  and  wrong,  and  a  convic- 
tion of  obligation  to  the  right  and  from  the  wrong. 
The  concrete  contents  of  the  right  are  variously  con- 


100  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

ceived,  but  the  fact  of  a  right,  of  a  law  which  is  ob- 
ligatory, of  obligation  which  may  not  be  shunned 
and  cannot  be  escaped — this  fact  appears  in  connec- 
tion with  all  moral  life.  In  this  sense  the  idea  of 
the  right  is  a  purely  formal  idea,  like  that  of  the 
truth  in  the  cognitive  realm ;  but  both  ideas  are  the 
condition  of  all  activity  in  their  respective  realms. 
The  notion  of  truth  is  variously  conceived  in  its 
concrete  contents,  but  the  notion  that  there  is  a 
truth  which  may  be  discovered  is  the  main-spring 
of  all  cognitive  action.  In  like  manner,  while  we 
may  differ  as  to  what  the  right  may  be,  the  idea 
of  a  right  and  of  its  inalienable  obligation  lies  at 
the  foundation  of  all  moral  progress. 

]\Iany  attempts  have  been  made  to  define  and 
deduce  this  idea  of  moral  obligation,  but  they  all 
fail.  It  is  something  more  than  a  simple  emotion. 
It  is  also  very  different  from  a  reflex  of  opinion. 
What  is  obligatory  is  often  such  a  reflex,  but  the 
idea  of  obligation  itself  is  not.  We  see  this  in  eA^ery 
case  where  a  man  stands  out  against  his  fellows, 
his  tribe,  his  time,  public  opinion,  traditional  cus- 
tom, etc.  No  more  does  it  mean  that  I  will  come 
to  grief  if  I  do  not  do  this  or  that,  either  through 
the  laws  and  sanctions  of  society,  or  through  those 
of  God.  To  say  that  I  ought  to  do  this  or  that  can 
never  be  identical  with  saying  that  society  or  God 
will  punish  me  if  I  do  not  do  it.  Moral  goodness 
does  not  consist  in  conforming  to  human  laws 
or  opinions,  or  even  to  divine  law,  except  as  they 
are  believed  to  conform  to  righteousness.  Every 
thoughtful  person  of  anything  like  developed  ration- 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  101 

ality  finds  society  bent  on  doing  many  things  more 
or  less  silly  and  mischievous,  and  on  enforcing  them 
by  a  great  variety  of  sanctions,  social  and  legal ; 
yet  there  is  not  the  slightest  tendency  to  produce  in 
the  thoughtful  mind,  or  indeed  in  any  mind,  a  sense 
of  moral  obligation.  We  may  feel  the  constraint 
of  custom;  we  may  perceive  the  risk  in  differing 
from  our  neighbors ;  there  may  even  be  danger  of 
social  ostracism,  as  in  countries  where  the  so-called 
law  of  honor  and  the  custom  of  duelling  prevails; 
but  we  feel  no  sense  of  duty.  The  customs  com- 
mand neither  our  reason  nor  our  conscience;  and 
would  never  become  moral  duties,  even  if  all  the 
world  agreed  to  maintain  them. 

The  best  derivative  account  of  the  idea  of  obliga- 
tion is  that  which  regards  it  as  the  expression  of  an 
hypothetical  necessity.  It  is  the  conviction  that  a 
certain  course  is  necessary  in  order  to  reach  a  cer- 
tain end.  The  word  often  has  this  meaning;  but  if 
this  were  its  only  meaning,  it  would  imply  that  the 
end  itself  might  be  foregone.  If  I  wish  to  become 
a  teacher,  I  must  pass  an  examination ;  but  I  may 
decide  not  to  be  a  teacher,  and  the  obligation  to 
pass  the  examination  ceases.  This  is  the  kind  of 
obligation  which  attaches  to  all  matters  of  non- 
moral  utility.  To  attain  them  I  am  obliged  to  do 
certain  things  or  to  obey  certain  laws ;  but  I  may 
escape  the  obligation  by  declining  the  ends  them- 
selves. But  if  there  be  any  end  which  we  are  not 
at  liberty  to  forego,  some  good  we  are  obliged  to 
seek,  a  law  we  may  never  transgress,  then  we  have 
no  longer  an  hypothetical  necessity,  but  a  categorical 


102  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

and  absolute  one.  In  one  sense,  indeed,  the  neces- 
sity still  remains  hyiDothetical ;  but  it  is  hypothetical 
with  reference  to  an  unconditional  end,  and  thus  be- 
comes itself  unconditional. 

The  idea  of  moral  obligation  arises  within  the 
mind  itself.  Of  course  it  cannot  be  sensuously 
presented,  nor  can  it  be  im^Dosed  from  without. 
Failure  to  discriminate  between  the  formal  idea  and 
its  concrete  application  causes  most  of  the  tradi- 
tional confusion  at  this  point.  Externally,  we  may 
have  commands  and  prohibitions  enforced  by  re- 
wards and  penalties,  but  the  idea  of  obligation 
refuses  to  coalesce  with  these.  There  may  be  per- 
sons for  whom  external  laws  and  sanctions  are  the 
only  motive  and  restraining  forces  in  conduct.  The 
cattle  seem  manifestly  to  be  on  this  plane;  and 
human  life  begins  on  the  same  level.  Very  jDcssibly 
it  often  remains  there.  But  the  idea,  when  it  comes, 
has  no  external  origin,  and  admits  of  no  definition 
excej)t  in  terms  of  itself.  The  right  to  which  obli- 
gation refers  is  simply  a  perceived  good ;  and  the 
affirmation  of  obligation  is  the  act  by  which  the 
mind  imposes  duty  upon  itself  in  the  presence  of 
such  a  good.  The  free  spirit  thus  imiDosing  duty 
upon  itself  gives  us  the  only  meaning  and  experi- 
ence of  moral  obligation.  Instead  of  being  an 
ojDaque  mystery,  it  lies  in  the  full  light  of  self- 
consciousness.  Instead  of  requiring  some  special 
faculty  to  produce  it,  it  is  hard  to  see  how  self-con- 
scious freedom  can  ever  be  without  it.  The  idea  of 
moral  obligation  is  a  necessary  function  of  a  free 
intelligence  in  any  world  where  conduct  is  j)ossible, 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  103 

and  life  has  any  value.  Such  a  being  in  such  a 
world  is  entrusted  with  his  own  interests  and  with 
those  of  others;  and  he  cannot  fail  to  recognize 
them  without  being  guilty  of  folly  or  ill-will.  This 
fact,  when  perceived,  cannot  fail  to  produce  the 
sense  of  obligation;  that  is,  the  free  spirit  in  pres- 
ence of  such  a  fact  cannot  fail  to  impose  duty  upon 
itself,  or  to  affirm  obligation  to  act  in  accordance 
with  its  perception  of  the  bearing  and  tendencies  of 
conduct.  The  measure  of  obligation  will  vary,  of 
course,  with  the  value  of  the  goods  in  question.  By 
this  imposition  of  duty  upon  itself,  the  soul  first 
arises  into  properly  moral  existence. 

This  autonomy  of  the  spirit,  as  Kant  calls  it,  has 
been  made  the  subject  of  much  verbal  criticism. 
If  the  moral  reason  gives  itself  its  own  law,  it  is 
urged,  then  it  is  essentially  lawless.  This  is  only  a 
quibble.  The  heteronomy  of  which  Kant  complains 
is  a  law  based  on  external  authority  or  adventitious 
consequences,  rather  than  on  the  essential  nature  of 
reason  and  reality  itself.  In  recognizing  this  na- 
ture and  in  the  appropriate  self-determination,  the 
mind  is  sufficiently  autonomous.  And  without  this 
autonomy,  we  have  no  proper  moral  life,  but  only 
a  subjection  to  appetite,  balanced  by  external  author- 
ity with  its  machinery  of  rewards  and  penalties. 

We  remain  below  the  moral  plane  also  if  we  con- 
sider obligation  only  as  the  impulse  to  unfold  which 
is  inherent  in  all  life  and  which  in  man  becomes 
conscious.  For  in  that  case  we  should  have  only 
a  psychological  fact  and  function,  rather  than  an 
ethical  one.     This  impulse  may  have  much  to  do 


104  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

with  our  development  toward  a  moral  life.  The 
social  environment  and  even  the  statute-book  may 
also  have  influence  in  preparing  the  way.  We  are 
helped  to  the  control  of  self  through  being  con- 
trolled by  others.  But  we  reach  the  truly  moral 
life  only  when  we  come  to  the  free  spirit  giving  law 
to  itself  in  accordance  with  its  perceptions  of  right 
reason. 

Verbally,  of  course,  this  account  of  obligation  is 
tautological,  as  all  definitions  of  elementary  experi- 
ence must  be.  It  is  also  unintelligible  except  to 
him  who  has  had  the  experience,  as  is  the  case 
again  with  all  elementary  experience.  This  idea  of 
obligation  does  not,  indeed,  infallibly  tell  us  what 
is  obligatory,  but  by  its  existence  it  makes  the  moral 
form  of  action  possible.  If  it  were  utterly  lacking, 
there  would  be  no  such  thing  as  moral  conduct. 
The  idea  may  be  attached  to  unwise  or  mistaken 
conceptions  of  duty,  but  its  presence  is  just  that 
which  lifts  the  instinctive  life  of  impulse  to  the 
moral  plane.  For  only  thereby  does  it  become  pos- 
sible to  consider  life  under  the  form  at  once  of  free- 
dom and  of  duty. 

With  this  idea  a  formal  moral  life  becomes 
possible.  Even  a  man  whose  notion  of  life  and  its 
goods  is  altogether  on  an  animal  plane  may  be  a 
moral  being.  For  he  may  feel  the  duty  of  realizing 
these  goods  for  others,  for  the  family,  the  tribe,  the 
neighbors ;  and  in  so  far  he  is  more  than  animal, 
he  is  moral.  The  contents  of  life  are  still  animal; 
but  the  sense  of  duty  and  its  recognition  in  action 
are  something  more.     The  devotion  of  a  savage  to 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  105 

his  tribe  may  be  as  absolute  as  that  of  a  philanthro- 
pist who  is  seeking  to  uplift  humanity;  nnd  in  such 
devotion  he  may  exemplify  the  fundamental  virtue 
of  love  for  the  common  good. 

But  these  formal  ideas  of  duty  and  obligation 
alone  offer  no  guide  to  objectively  right  action. 
They  supply  a  moral  form  for  conduct,  but  no  con- 
tents. If  we  had  no  additional  moral  insight,  we 
should  be  thrown  back  upon  eudemonistic  calcula- 
tion for  any  concrete  code,  a  result  to  which  a  purely 
formal  ethics  must  come.  Here  then  we  must  rest, 
or  else  we  must  look  beyond  these  formal  ideas,  and 
inquire  if  any  concrete  law  of  life  can  be  drawn 
from  our  moral  nature.  Is  there  any  moral  law 
which  has  contents  as  well  as  form,  and  which  is 
binding  upon  all  moral  beings  as  such? 

In  this  question  we  come  nearer  to  the  common 
moral  consciousness  than  W'e  have  been  hitherto. 
The  entire  doctrine  of  goods  is  foreign  to  the  un- 
refiective  practical  consciousness ;  and  the  distinction 
between  formal  and  material  rightness  is  only  par- 
tially admitted.  This  consciousness  is  apt  to  stop 
with  concrete  duties,  social,  parental,  filial,  frater- 
nal, religious ;  and  these  seem  to  be  so  manifestly 
binding,  that  they  are  said  to  spring  immediately 
from  the  relations  in  question,  and  to  be  intuitively 
discerned. 

Eesuming  the  question,  it  is  of  course  idle  to  look 
for  such  a  law  among  the  varying  codes  of  men. 
If  it  exist  at  all,  it  must  be  as  an  implicit  principle. 
And  since  the  will  is  the  centre  of  moral  action,  it 


106  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

has  been  common  to  seek  the  fundamental  moral 
law  in  connection  with  the  will.  Relations  of  will 
are  declared  to  be  the  only  subject  of  moral  judg- 
ment. Hence  we  have  only  to  represent  to  ourselves 
the  fundamental  relations  of  will,  to  reach  a  funda- 
mental moral  judgment  upon  them. 

This  matter  of  the  relations  of  will  has  been 
worked  out  with  great  formal  thoroughness  by  Her- 
bart;  and  he  finds  five  fundamental  ideas,  corre- 
sftonding  to  which  are  five  fundamental  moral 
judgments.  But  only  two  of  tbe  five  ideas  have 
any  concrete  moral  contents.  The  others  are  either 
formal,  depending  for  their  value  upon  the  matter 
to  which  they  are  applied,  or  they  get  their  value 
from  their  relation  to  the  two  in  question.  The 
two  ideas  are  benevolence  or  good  w  ill,  and  requital, 
or  the  good  desert  of  the  good  will  and  the  ill  desert 
of  the  evil  will.  When,  then,  two  or  more  persons 
meet  in  a  common  life  where  mutual  influence  is 
possible,  we  demand  that  the  relation  of  will,  that 
is  the  principle  of  their  willing,  shall  be  mutual 
good  will.  This  we  unconditionally  approve,  ana 
this  we  universally  demand  from  all  moral  beings. 
And  we  unconditionally  condemn  the  evil  will  as  a 
principle  of  action,  and  affirm  its  ill  desert. 

The  duty  and  good  desert  of  acting  from  good 
will,  and  the  sin  and  ill  desert  of  acting  from  an 
evil  will  is  the  deej)est  law  concerning  the  interaction 
of  moral  beings.  Confining  our  attention  to  the 
positive  side,  the  law  of  good  will,  or,  as  it  has  been 
called,  the  law  of  love,  it  is  plain  that  this  law  is 
unconditionally  binding  for  all  beings  and  for  all 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  107 

circumstances,  presupposing,  of  course,  the  general 
possibility  of  a  moral  existence.  It  is  a  law  fit  for 
weakness  and  power,  for  ignorance  and  knowledge, 
for  earth  and  heaven,  for  the  human  and  the  divine. 
This  law  stands  in  its  own  right.  We  need  no 
argument  to  prove  that  it  expresses  the  relation  of 
will  which  should  exist  among  all  personal  beings. 
Even  the  experience  school  takes  it  for  granted  in 
setting  up  the  general  happiness  as  the  aim  of 
action;  the  proposition  to  justify  it  by  reference  to 
consequences  would  fall  into  an  unlawful  abstrac- 
tion. The  good  will  is  the  will  to  produce  well- 
being;  and  exists  only  in  and  through  the  concep 
tion  of  the  good  to  be  attained.  If  we  cancel  the 
conception  of  the  objective  good  and  the  possibility 
of  reaching  it,  the  good  will  has  no  object  and  no 
existence.  Love  would  have  no  meaning  in  a  world 
where  mutual  influence  is  impossible. 

For  the  normal  interaction  of  moral  beings  the 
law  of  good  will  is  the  only  universal  one.  All 
concrete  duties,  of  course,  take  their  form  from  the 
specific  nature  of  the  being  and  the  particular  cir- 
cumstances of  his  existence.  Duties  arising  from 
physical  life  would  have  no  meaning  apart  from 
that  life.  Duties  arising  from  the  relation  of  hus- 
band and  wife,  parent  and  child,  master  and  ser- 
vant, ruler  and  citizen,  would  be  non-existent  for 
an  order  in  which  these  relations  were  unknown. 
Even  justice,  except  when  identified  with  good  will 
or  with  retribution,  is  limited.  Every  moral  being 
ought  to  be  treated  with  reference  to  his  well-being, 


108  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

however  ignorant  or  undeveloped  he  maybe;  but 
beyond  this  no  universal  law  can  be  laid  down.  The 
only  universal  right  is  the  right  to  be  thus  treated ; 
whatever  goes  beyond  this  depends  on  circum- 
stances. But  love  abideth  forever.  Whatever  the 
nature  and  form  of  existence  and  whatever  the  grade 
of  development,  the  law  of  good  will  remains  bind- 
ing, as  the  deepest  law  for  the  interaction  of  moral 
beings.  This  is  the  law  which  binds  all  moral 
orders  together,  as  the  law  of  gravitation  binds  all 
w^orlds  into  one  system.  This  law  will  specify  itself 
into  manifold  forms  according  to  circumstances,  and 
admits  of  endless  application. 

The  idea  of  justice,  which  is  often  put  forward  as 
yielding  an  equally  essential  law,  is  by  no  means  so 
clear  as  that  of  good  will.  In  its  common  use  it  is 
often  identified  with  the  legal ;  sometimes  it  means 
the  fair,  the  impartial,  and  sometimes  it  is  made  a 
synonym  for  all  the  virtues.  It  has  also  been  put 
as  a  demand  that  every  one  enjoy  or  suffer  the 
results  of  his  own  doings,  a  demand  Tvhich  seems 
quite  ideal  when  put  abstractly,  but  which  is  ab- 
surdly impossible  of  realization  in  a  world  of  heredity 
and  social  solidarity.  Most  frequently  the  law  of 
justice  is  a  specification  of  the  law  of  good  will. 

In  so  far  as  justice  seems  to  have  an  independent 
meaning,  it  is  connected  with  the  idea  of  rights. 
This  idea  is  inherent  in  the  very  nature  of 
the  moral  personality  and  of  moral  relations.  In 
order  to  be  myself,  I  must  have  a  field  of  action 
whose  limits  all  others  must  respect.  Interference 
is  resented  with   the  utmost   force   of   our   entire 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  109 

nature,  not  merely  as  a  wron<?  but,  what  is  often 
worse,  as  an  insult  and  affront.  Out  of  this  feeling 
and  conviction  arises  the  scheme  of  rights  which,  in  a 
more  or  less  developed  degree,  obtains  in  every  moral 
community.  It  is  in  this  realm  that  the  idea  of 
justice  is  especially  prominent.  Justice  has  the  task 
of  protecting  rights.  As  such,  it  is  largely  negative. 
It  does  not  demand  good  will  or  charity,  but  it 
demands  that  the  person  be  undisturbed  in  the  en- 
joyment of  his  rights.  And  as  some  sense  of  rights 
is  absolutely  necessary  to  the  existence  of  a  moral 
community,  justice  is  easily  made  to  appear  as  a 
more  fundamental  idea  even  than  good  will.  We 
resent  nothing  more  deeply  and  bitterly  than  injus- 
tice. We  can  get  on  with  any  amount  of  indiffer- 
ence or  dislike,  if  our  rights  are  left  intact.  And 
yet  it  is  manifest  that  justice  in  this  sense  is  only 
the  negative  side  of  good  will.  It  represents  merely 
the  demands  of  good  will  with  reference  to  rights. 
But  as  the  positive  form  of  good  wall  is  of  very  slow 
growth  in  social  relations,  while  the  negative  form 
is  necessary  to  the  existence  of  society,  the  latter 
seems  at  once  to  be  a  special  idea  by  itself  and  also 
to  precede  good  will  as  something  primal  and  fun- 
damental in  the  moral  nature. 

And  this  leads  to  still  another  conception  of 
justice  which  is  also  very  common.  Justice  is  fre- 
quently used  as  denoting  the  principle  of  retribu- 
tion or  requital.  It  often  occurs  in  this  sense  in 
theological  discussions.  God,  it  is  said,  is  not 
merely  love;  he  is  also  justice.  The  treatment  of 
good  and  bad  alike  is  declared  to  be  incompatible 


110  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

with  justice.  The  moral  nature  also,  we  are  told,  is 
by  no  means  exhausted  in  love  or  well-wishing,  but 
contains  another  element  far  more  potent  and  fiery ; 
and  this  is  the  element  of  justice.  It  is  this  variable 
use  of  the  word  which  has  led  to  the  notion  that 
justice  is  the  primal  and  independent  element  of 
the  moral  nature.  It  is  plain,  too,  that  this  claim 
must  be  allowed  unless  we  make  justice  an  essential 
factor  of  love  itself.  Certainly  a  love  which  had  no 
displeasure  for  the  evil-doer,  and  no  penalty  for  evil- 
doing,  would  be  about  the  most  immoral  and  con- 
temptible thing  possible. 

But  if  we  make  good  will  the  deepest  law  of 
moral  interaction,  it  is  plain  that  we  have  no  com- 
plete practical  guide.  To  begin  with,  we  have  no 
hint  of  the  necessary  limitations  in  practice.  To 
what  extent  must  I  put  myself  at  another's  service, 
or  subordinate  my  pleasure  to  his?  The  fixing  of 
this  relation  is  a  problem  for  practical  experience. 
Again,  the  law  of  good  will  throws  no  light  upon 
the  methods  of  realizing  it.  Hence  we  have  to  dis- 
cover in  some  way  the  practical  rules  by  which  the 
good  will  should  proceed ;  that  is,  we  have  to  form 
a  code.  Further,  while  the  duty  of  good  will  is  ab- 
solute as  a  disposition,  the  forms  and  measure  of  its 
manifestation  are  not  revealed  in  the  disposition 
itself.  These,  too,  have  largely  to  be  gathered 
from  life  rather  than  from  any  apriori  speculation. 
We  are  not  abstract  moral  persons,  but  men  and 
women,  parents  and  children,  neighbors  and  citi- 
zens ;  and  the  manifestation  of  the  good  will  has  to 
be  determined  in  accordance  with  these  relations. 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  111 

Unless  we  bear  this  in  mind,  we  shall  reach  that 
odious  neglect  of  natural  ties  in  the  name  of  a  uni- 
versal philanthropy,  which  has  so  often  made  phi- 
lanthropists objects  of  just  contempt.  And,  finally, 
the  law  of  good  will  itself  is  conditioned  l)y  some 
ideal  of  humanity.  Apart  from  this,  it  is  compati- 
ble with  the  most  unsavory  results.  Love  simply 
as  well-wishing,  or  an  unwillingness  to  give  pain, 
is  quite  as  likely  to  be  immoral  as  moral.  Sym- 
pathy frequently  stands  in  the  way  of  righteousness ; 
and  pity  is  often  but  a  weakness  of  both  nerves  and 
character.  In  a  world  of  sots  and  gluttons  the  law 
of  good  will  would  lead  to  unlimited  drinking  and 
gorging ;  and  all  the  while  every  one  might  be  do- 
ing precisely  as  he  would  be  done  by.  This  pitiable 
result  is  escaped  only  as  there  is  some  perception  of 
the  ideal  order  of  human  nature  which  conditions 
the  application  of  the  law.  Given  this  conditioning 
conception,  we  may  say  that  the  law  of  love,  or 
good  will,  includes  all  duties  of  man  to  his  neighbor, 
or  that  it  is  the  ideal  social  law.  It  expresses  the 
spirit  which  should  rule  our  lives,  and  the  principle 
from  which  action  should  spring.  If,  then,  we  are 
told  that  the  law  of  love  is  the  only  basal  moral 
law,  we  assent  to  this  extent :  The  law  of  love  is 
the  only  strictly  universal  moral  law  for  all  normal 
social  action.  It  is  also  the  only  social  law  for 
human  beings,  but  it  presupposes  in  the  latter  case 
a  law  for  the  human  being  himself  which  deter- 
mines the  form  of  its  application.  A  complete  law 
of  duty  for  us  must  include  both  a  human  ideal 
and  also  a  law  of  social  interaction. 


112  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

There  is,  then,  in  human  morality,  even  suppos- 
ing it  perfect,  a  double  element.  One  is  a  univer- 
sal factor  which  we  must  view  as  valid  for  all  moral 
beings  whatever ;  the  other  is  relative  to  humanity 
itself  and  has  reference  to  human  perfection.  The 
ideal  of  what  man  ought  to  be  is  a  prominent  factor 
in  determining  what  he  ought  to  do ;  and  the  ideal 
itself  varies  as  we  conceive  man  as  a  pure  spirit,  or 
as  a  being  of  flesh  and  blood  in  manifold  physical 
and  social  relations.  The  universal  element  lies  in 
the  affirmation  of  the  duty  and  good  desert  of  the 
good  will,  and  of  the  evil  and  bad  desert  of  the  evil 
will.  Historically,  of  course,  this  duty  has  been  ex- 
tended only  to  those  who  v/ere  supposed  to  exist  in 
mutual  moral  relations.  The  other  element  refers 
to  the  ideal  of  human  perfection  toward  which  the 
individual  should  strive.  This  latter  element  is 
highly  variable  and  uncertain  in  comparison  with 
the  former.  The  law  of  good  will  with  all  its  im- 
plications, and  the  ill  desert  of  the  evil  will,  may  be 
looked  upon  as  beyond  question.  They  need  no 
proof  and  admit  of  none.  All  that  can  be  done  is 
to  present  the  relations  involved  to  our  conscious- 
ness, and  await  the  immediate  reaction  of  our  moral 
nature.  But  the  ideal  of  humanity,  except  as  in- 
volved in  the  good  will,  is  a  far  more  complex 
affair. 

The  uncertainty  of  our  ideal  of  perfection,  and 
the  relative  clearness  of  the  law  of  the  good  will, 
have  led  some  writers  to  hold  that  social  life  is  the 
only  field  of  ethics,  and  to  set  aside  duties  to  one's 
self  as  a  sort  of  pedagogic  and  gymnastic  discipline 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  113 

on  our  own  account  which  has  no  properly  ethical 
character.  The  social  law  of  morals  then  is  all. 
Good  will  is  the  spring  of  conduct,  and  the  common 
good  the  aim.  The  claim  is  further  supported  by 
the  fact  that  social  action  is  the  chief  part  of  our  life. 
The  individual  lives  and  moves  and  has  his  being  only 
in  the  social  environment ;  and  hence  can  readily  be 
looked  upon  as  only  a  function  of  that  environment. 
Hence,  again,  it  is  easy  to  fall  into  the  extravagance 
of  thinking  that  duty  relates  only  to  society,  or  to 
the  individual  in  society.  But  this  extravagance 
has  always  been  repudiated  both  in  theory  and  in 
practice.  The  condition  of  owing  anything  to  others 
is  to  owe  something  to  myself.  The  humanity  which 
I  respect  in  others,  I  must  respect  in  myself.  I  am 
not  permitted  to  act  irrationally  toward  myself  any 
more  than  toward  others.  My  indifferent  pleasures 
are  in  my  choice ;  but  my  true  good  is  not.  Eobin- 
son  Crusoe  did  not  become  a  non-moral  being  when 
thrown  on  the  desert  island ;  for  he  still  owed  respect 
to  his  own  humanity.  For  social  ethics,  good  will 
is  indeed  the  spring  and  the  common  good  the  aim, 
but  the  ethics  of  the  person  is  not  exhausted  therein. 
The  moral  ideal  binds  the  individual  not  only  in  his 
social  relations,  but  also  in  his  self-regarding  activ- 
ities and  thoughts.  And  this  is  generally  recognized 
by  the  common  moral  consciousness.  Many  a  course 
of  conduct  is  condemned  not  as  harming  others,  but 
as  degrading  the  humanity  of  the  agent.  The 
whole  list  of  crimes  of  sense  and  passion  are  of  this 
class.     They  are  sins  against  humanity  not  in  the 

persons  of  others,  but  in  the  persons  of  the  agents 
8 


114  PRINCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

themselves.  Thus  we  come  back  to  our  conchision 
again  that  our  moraUty  involves  not  merely  the  law 
of  love,  but  also  an  ideal  of  humanity  which  condi- 
tions its  application.  If  we  desire  to  make  either 
primary,  the  ideal  is  basal,  and  the  law  of  love  is  its 
implication.     In  morals,  being  is  deeper  than  doing. 

Dr.  Martineau,  in  his  "Types  of  Ethical  Theory," 
has  given  us  one  of  the  best  attempts  to  form  a  com- 
plete system  of  ethical  doctrine  from  the  subjective 
side.  This  supposes  that  every  ethical  judgment  in- 
volves the  comparison  of  two  or  more  motives. 
When  the  higher  is  preferred  to  the  lower,  the  action 
is  right.  When  the  lower  is  preferred  to  the  higher, 
the  action  is  wrong.  There  is  further  a  scale  of 
rank  among  motives,  in  accordance  with  which  all 
action  should  take  place.  This  is  all  that  ethics 
has  to  do  with.  The  study  of  consequences  belongs 
to  prudence. 

There  is  much  in  our  moral  life  that  lends  itself 
to  the  supjDort  of  this  view.  Many  problems  of  con- 
duct are  only  questions  of  expediency.  The  moral 
aim  may  be  consciously  present,  while  the  mode  of 
carrying  it  out  is  quite  uncertain.  This  is  especially 
the  case  in  problems  of  law  and  economics.  Here 
the  moral  and  the  prudential  problems  are  plainly 
distinct.  The  former  may  be  solved,  while  the  lat- 
ter is  untouched.  Again,  the  moral  agent  can  be 
abstracted  from  his  surroundings  and  maintained, 
at  least  in  our  thought,  intact  in  his  person  and 
character.  On  all  these  accounts  it  becomes  easy 
to  fancy  that  the  moral  problem  can  be  completely 
solved  within  consciousness  itself. 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  115 

Without  doubt,  Dr.  Martineau's  view  contains 
a  large  measure  of  truth ;  but  it  is  very  doubtful 
if  we  can  always  so  sharply  separate  the  moral  from 
the  prudential,  especially  within  the  life  of  the  per- 
son. If  we  do  so,  it  is  only  by  an  act  of  abstraction 
which  puts  asunder  things  which  belong  together. 
The  doctrine  of  higher  and  lower  motives  does  very 
well  for  such  opposed  motives  as  good  will  and 
malignity,  selfishness  and  unselfishness ;  but  when 
we  attempt  to  make  a  complete  theory  of  moral 
action  from  it,  it  becomes  complex  and  operose  to 
the  last  degree.  A  glance  at  the  table  of  rank 
among  motives  will  confirm  this  opinion.  A  good 
many  of  these  motives  are  excluded  by  simple  good 
will.  The  remainder  are  mostly  natural  propensi- 
ties good  in  their  place,  and  evil  only  when  going 
beyond  a  certain  measure.  Because,  too,  of  the 
unity  of  our  nature,  all  of  these  are  needed  in  life, 
and  any  one  of  them  may  have  right  of  way  accord- 
ing to  circumstances.  "We  may  say  that  the  rights 
of  the  mind  are  superior  to  those  of  the  body,  that 
the  spirit  outranks  the  flesh,  etc.,  yet  such  consid- 
erations do  not  remove  the  fact  that  in  certain  cir- 
cumstances the  physical  claims  must  take  precedence 
of  supposed  spiritual  ones.  These  rights  of  mind 
and  spirit  are  reached  only  through  the  co-working 
of  the  physical.  Moreover,  even  the  virtues  them- 
selves are  not  always  free  from  a  quantitative  ref- 
erence. What  means  has  the  person  himself  of  tell- 
ing where  self-regard  ends  and  selfishness  begins? 
How  shall  he  separate  courage  from  rashness,  and 
prudence   from  cowardice?     Where   does  firmness 


116  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

become  obstinacy,  and  meekness  pusillanimity?  As 
heat  is  not  cold,  yet  passes  into  it  by  indistinguishable 
degrees,  so  many  of  the  virtues  fade  into  their 
opposites  in  manifestation  without  any  well-defined 
subjective  frontier.  And  these  questions  cannot  be 
decided  by  any  subjective  standard.  To  ask  an 
untaught  and  sensitive  conscience  when  we  have 
done  enough,  or  made  sufficient  sacrifice,  is  to  start 
on  the  road  to  insanity.  Conscience  itself  has  to  be 
subordinated  to  good  sense,  or  it  becomes  a  measure- 
less calamity,  issuing  in  asceticism  or  madness.  It 
may  well  be  doubted,  also,  if  for  the  decision  of  the 
many  questions  which  arise  concerning  the  relations 
of  lower  and  higher,  of  rest  and  labor,  of  work  and 
amusement,  and  of  the  quantitative  measure  of  each, 
we  have  anything  beyond  a  vague  ideal  of  human 
perfection  and  an  experience  of  consequences.  The 
ideal  itself  is  evolved  only  in  and  through  experience. 
The  motives  become  definite  only  as  the  experiences 
become  definite  and  consolidated.  Before  this  point 
is  reached,  we  have  not  a  set  of  clearly  conceived 
and  easily  distinguished  motives,  but  rather  life  it- 
self, moving  semi-automatically  and  only  dimly  con- 
scious of  its  own  impulses  and  ideals.  The  law  of 
the  type  transforms  itself  slowly  into  an  apprehen- 
sion of  its  own  contents.  Indeed,  even  good  will 
itself  requires  a  certain  measure  of  abstraction  be- 
fore it  can  be  apprehended  as  a  motive  or  law.  It 
always  first  ajjpears  in  some  concrete  form,  and  in 
the  undeveloped  mind  has  no  meaning  apart  from 
that  form. 

If  the  moral  ideal  were  clearly  defined  or  sharply 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  117 

conceived,  the  ethical  problem  would  be  a  simple 
one.  And  it  is  conceivable  that  there  should  be 
moral  beings  for  whom  this  should  be  the  case. 
There  might  be  a  simplicit}'^  of  nature,  or  a  measure 
of  insight,  which  would  leave  no  room  for  question. 
Unfortunately,  this  is  not  the  case  with  men.  Our 
entire  life  is  subject  to  development,  and  we  come 
only  gradually  to  ourselves.  Our  nature,  too,  is 
complex,  and  all  its  factors  have  their  place  and 
function.  We  have,  then,  to  await  the  develop- 
ment of  these  factors,  and  then  to  determine  their 
relative  rank  and  their  quantitative  measure.  Hence 
the  ideal  does  not  admit  of  exhaustive  definition ; 
and  it  exists  in  any  given  circumstances  chiefly  in 
a  perception  of  the  direction  in  which  human  worth 
and  dignity  lie.  Hence  its  actual  contents  vary 
with  mental  and  moral  development,  but  the  sense 
of  direction  is  fairly  constant.  From  the  mental 
standpoint  of  the  savage,  his  moral  judgments  are 
correct.  As  in  all  measurements  there  is  at  bottom 
an  indescribable  element  of  more  or  less  which  can- 
not be  inverted  and  which  is  the  condition  of  all 
quantitative  judgments,  so  in  moral  judgments  there 
is  at  bottom  a  fixed  perception  of  the  direction  and 
difference  of  up  and  down.  And  with  the  enlarge- 
ment of  knowledge  and  the  unfolding  of  life,  comes 
an  enlargement  of  the  ideal.  This  moral  ideal  is  like 
the  corresponding  ideal  in  the  pure  intellect.  Here, 
too,  we  have  an  ideal  only  partially  grasped  and 
gradually  evolving,  yet  the  final  court  of  appeal  con- 
cerning all  that  is  rational ;  as  the  moral  ideal  is  the 
court  of  appeal  concerning  what  is  morally  right. 


118  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

For  the  authority  of  this  ideal,  there  is  no  war- 
rant but  the  soul  itself,  just  as  for  the  truths  of 
the  pure  intellect  there  is  no  warrant  but  the  soul 
itself.  Bearing  in  mind  that  there  is  no  question 
here  of  what  we  are  to  do  in  the  way  of  concrete 
codes,  but  rather  what  we  are  to  be,  it  is  plain  that 
this  ideal  can  never  be  estimated  by  any  one  for 
any  other.  The  data  themselves  are  purely  sub- 
jective and  admit  of  no  objective  presentation.  Like 
the  simple  experiences  of  sense,  they  can  be  known 
only  in  immediate  experience.  No  one  can  inter- 
pret to  us  what  hunger  and  pain,  ease  and  comfort 
mean,  except  as  we  have  the  key  in  ourselves.  In 
the  same  way,  the  noble  and  honorable,  the  base 
and  shameful  are  words  whose  meaning  must  first 
be  learned  within.  In  this  matter  our  estimate  of 
ourselves  must  precede  any  estimate  of  others.  We 
may  condemn  an  act  as  hurtful,  but  when  it  comes 
to  the  moral  judgment  of  a  person,  there  is  no 
way  but  to  comjDare  our  conception  of  his  motives 
and  mental  states  with  the  similar  ones  in  ourselves, 
and  await  the  immediate  reaction  of  our  nature. 
Apart  from  the  good  done,  we  esteem  the  doer. 
Apart  from  the  mischief  of  an  evil  deed,  w^e  have 
scorn  and  contempt  for  the  abjectness  and  baseness 
of  soul  revealed.  We  should  have  no  better  opinion 
of  Titus  Gates,  Judge  Jeffreys,  and  Judas  Isciriot, 
if  they  were  reduced  to  absolute  harmlessness. 
What  they  did  was  not  so  bad  as  what  they  were. 
What  these  things  mean  must  be  learned  in  con- 
sciousness itself.  We  can  learn  them  from  others 
as  little  as  we  can  learn  from  others  what  it  is  to  be 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  119 

hungry,  or  whether  we  have  eaten  to  our  satisfac- 
tion. 

The  traditional  attempts  to  deduce  these  judg- 
ments from  the  environment  or  the  statute-book, 
first  fail  to  tell  how  they  arose  in  the  environment, 
supposing  that  the  claim  itself  had  any  meaning, 
and  they  next  confound  the  concrete  code  for  out- 
ward conduct  with  the  soul's  estimate  of  its  own 
inward  life.  If  morals  were  exhausted  in  the  code, 
much  might  be  said  for  experience  and  the  environ- 
ment and  even  for  the  statute-book ;  but  it  is  simply 
fatuous  to  look  to  them  for  the  subjective  side  of 
morality.  Hume  has  put  the  matter  well:  "Had 
nature  made  no  original  moral  distinctions  inde- 
pendently of  education,  distinctions  founded  on 
the  original  constitution  of  the  mind,  the  words 
honorable  and  shameful,  lovely  and  odious,  noble 
and  despicable,  had  never  had  place  in  any  lan- 
guage; nor  could  politicians,  had  they  invented 
those  terms,  ever  have  been  able  to  render  them 
intelligible,  or  make  them  convey  any  idea  to  the 
audience."  * 

If  now  we  ask  for  the  authority  of  this  ideal,  we 
do  not  get  by  any  means  so  clear  an  answer  as  in 
the  case  of  the  simple  law  of  good  will.  That 
stands  in  its  own  right  and  is  its  own  justification. 
But  when  we  ask  why  one  is  obliged  to  seek  his 
own  perfection,  the  answers  are  rather  uncertain. 
Probably,  expressed  abstractly,  the  average  man 
would  not  regard  it  as  a  duty  at  all ;  for  average 

*" Inquiry  Concerning  Principles  of  Morals,"  sect,  v.,  " Why- 
Utility  rioases." 


120  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

morality  is  nearly  exhausted  in  a  recognition  of  the 
conventional  code.  The  answer  has  sometimes  been 
found  in  the  law  of  the  type.  We  judge  things  as 
perfect  or  imperfect  as  they  agree  or  disagree  with 
the  law  of  their  class.  When  anything  falls  below 
the  normal  development,  we  have  a  sense  of  failure. 
The  thing  does  not  correspond  to  its  idea,  and  is  in 
a  bad  way.  In  the  same  way,  we  think  of  human 
beings  as  called  upon  to  realize  a  certain  idea ;  and 
as  the  realization  of  this  idea  is  partly  in  their  own 
power,  the  constraint  of  the  type,  which  mechani- 
cally realizes  itself  in  the  lower  orders  of  animate 
nature,  transforms  itself  into  duty  for  men. 

This  idea  is  not  without  attraction  for  the  specula- 
tive intelligence,  though  it  can  hardly  claim  to  find 
support  in  consciousness.  It  does,  however,  find  sup- 
port in  spontaneous  language.  To  be  a  man,  a  true 
man,  to  act  like  a  man,  are  among  the  highest  terms 
of  commendation;  while  the  opposite  are  among 
our  severest  forms  of  condemnation.  There  is  also 
a  general  condemnation  of  all  those  who  fall  below 
what  has  been  fixed  upon  as  the  standard  of  man- 
hood. In  such  cases,  a  sense  of  the  duty  to  realize 
the  typical  idea  manifests  itself  unmistakably.  But 
if  we  are  to  make  this  universal,  we  must  assume 
that  the  true  and  highest  good  of  man  lies  in  realiz- 
ing his  typical  perfection,  so  that  while  a  nature  less 
nobly  endowed  might  safely  rest  on  a  lower  plane, 
man  can  neither  safely  nor  honorably  stop  short  of 
his  best.  While  a  better  is  in  sight,  we  can  rest  in 
no  good ;  and  the  refusal  to  move  onward  is  to  be  a 
traitor  to  the  highest,  and  so,  finally,  to  the  good 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  131 

itself.  The  notion  is  further  complicated  with  the 
theistic  implications  of  the  notion  of  the  type.  The 
refusal  to  move  on  to  the  best  is  to  decline  the  end 
the  Creator  intended,  and  to  transgress  his  will. 
But  none  of  these  things  are  clearly  given  in  the 
common  consciousness ;  and  men  struggle  on  with 
a  dim  sense  of  an  ideal  whose  obligation  is  more  or 
less  dimly  recognized;  and  the  ground  of  whose 
obligation  is  for  the  most  part  ignored.  In  religious 
thought,  of  course,  it  is  bound  up  with  the  religious 
conception.  In  practice,  the  received  code  takes  the 
place  of  the  ideal  for  the  conventional  conscience. 
It  is  only  when  criticism  compels  inquiry  or  revision, 
that  the  presence  of  the  ideal  makes  itself  manifest. 
At  all  other  times  the  passive  conscience  acquiesces 
in  traditional  and  institutional  morality. 

The  ideal  as  such  lies  beyond  actual  attainment. 
When  developed,  it  far  transcends  our  real  state, 
and  thus  it  gives  rise  to  a  peculiar  set  of  facts.  On 
the  one  hand,  it  seems  to  be  a  moral  axiom  that  no 
one  can  be  to  blame  for  what  cannot  be  helped, 
and  that  no  one  is  bound  to  do  what  is  impossible. 
On  the  other  hand,  we  condemn  ourselves  in  a  cer- 
tain way  even  for  unavoidable  imperfection.  To 
be  sick  by  no  fault  of  our  own  is  still  to  be  sick ;  and 
to  be  constitutionally  imbecile  does  not  remove  the 
imbecility.  In  the  same  way  we  may  inherit  ab- 
normal moral  tendencies,  but  the  fact  of  inheritance 
does  not  diminish  their  abnormality.  Two  things 
are  confused  here,  the  simple  ethical  ideal  and  the 
question  of  personal  merit  and  demerit.     Merit  and 


122  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

demerit,  duty  and  obligation  are  measured  by 
ability  only,  but  the  ideal  transcends  it.  This  is 
the  essential  nature  of  an  ideal;  it  makes  no 
allowances,  but  simply  holds  up  a  standard.  All 
that  falls  below  it  is  condemned  as  imperfect. 
Moreover,  the  ideal  itself  grows,  and  always  keeps 
in  advance.  It  is  this  fact  which  provides  for  in- 
definite moral  progress,  and  forbids  us  ever  to  find 
satisfaction  in  any  actual  attainment,  or  actual 
obedience.  From  the  side  of  the  ideal,  all  are  con- 
demned. From  the  side  of  ability,  the  question  is 
very  different.  Many  of  the  ethical  disputes  in 
theology  arise  from  overlooking  this  double  jDoint 
of  view. 

Here  a  fact  reappears  which  has  been  already 
dwelt  upon.  The  moral  judgment  goes  deeper  than 
the  act  and  the  volition.  From  the  standiwint  of  the 
ideal,  we  judge  the  entire  man,  not  merely  in  what 
he  does,  but  also  in  what  he  is.  We  demand  not 
merely  that  the  will  be  right,  but  that  the  heart  be 
right  also.  From  the  side  of  merit,  we  may  say  that 
the  more  difficulty  in  doing  a  good  deed  the  better 
the  deed ;  as  when  the  will  struggles  with  passion, 
or  self-interest,  and  only  by  mighty  effort  overcomes. 
But  from  the  side  of  the  ideal,  we  must  say  that  the 
easier  the  deed  the  better;  as  when  the  will  and 
desires  move  together  in  well-doing,  and  righteous- 
ness has  become  incarnate  in  the  entire  nature. 

This  ideal  contains  two  elements,  a  conception  of 
what  man  ought  to  be  and  one  of  what  he  ought 
to  do.  The  unfolding  of  the  former  gives  us  the 
scheme  of  the  virtues.     The  negative  and  correla- 


SUBJECTIVE   ETHICS  123 

tive  pole  of  this  scheme  gives  us  the  vices.  Moving 
inward  from  the  deed  to  the  doer,  we  find  at  once 
the  personal  source  and  the  personal  incarnation  of 
the  deeds.  Here  we  come  upon  life  itself,  and  we 
judge  it  not  only  hy  its  intermittent  manifestations 
but  by  its  abiding  principle.  This  is  character,  the 
final  object  of  all  moral  approval  or  condemnation. 
The  law  of  good  will  and  its  implications,  the  ill 
desert  of  the  evil  will,  a  human  ideal  more  or  less 
clearly  perceived  and  the  obligation  of  which  is 
more  or  less  strongly  felt,  but  both  of  which  are 
growing  with  the  unfolding  of  humanity  and  the 
enlargement  of  knowledge — these  constitute  in 
principle  the  moral  outfit  of  the  race  from  the  sub- 
jective side.  And  we  see  the  race  working  more  or 
less  unconsciously  under  the  influence  of  these  prin- 
ciples, striving  to  formulate  them  into  codes  which 
shall  best  express  them,  striving  also  to  become 
more  conscious  of  its  own  aims,  and  gradually  build- 
ing itself  into  that  inward  and  outward  development 
which  shall  satisfy  at  once  the  demand  for  outward 
fortune  and  happiness,  and  for  inward  worth  and 
peace.  Only  the  fanatical  theorist  can  fail  to  see 
both  these  subjective  elements  and  also  the  grow- 
ing appreciation  of  consequences  active  in  human 
development;  and  only  the  same  ill-starred  being 
can  have  any  interest  in  wishing  it  otherwise. 


CHAPTER  V 

DEVELOPMENT  IN  MORALS 

Whenever  we  speak  of  development  in  morals, 
especially  if  we  use  the  terminology  of  evolution, 
all  those  to  whom  a  little  learning  has  proved  an 
uncommonly  dangerous  thing  are  sure  to  suppose 
that  this  means  the  transformation  of  animal  in- 
stinct and  impulses  into  moral  elements.  But  while 
the  transformation  is  insisted  upon,  it  is  tacitly  dis- 
allowed; for  these  moral  elements  are  supposed  to 
be  not  properly  moral,  but  only  disguised  animal  de- 
sires after  all.  The  fatuity  and  misunderstanding 
of  this  traditional  contention  have  been  sufficiently 
considered  in  the  Introduction. 

Development,  however,  in  the  sense  of  the  gradual 

moralization  of  life  and  conduct  is  a  manifest  fact 

in  our  moral  history.     The  reason  lies  in  the  further 

fact  that  our  life  in  all  its  departments  begins  as  a 

potentiality,  rather  than  an  actuality.     Physically, 

mentally,  and  morally,  the  human   being  is  little 

more  than  a  possibility  at  the  start,  or,  as  Amiel 

has  it,  a  candidate  for  humanity.     He  is  not  rational 

but  a  candidate  for  rationality.     He  is  not  moral 

but  a  candidate  for  moralitv.     He  is  only  a  can- 

didate  in  respect  to  all  those   things  that  belong 

to   ideal    humanity.     From    this    zero   stage   man 

124 


DEVELOPMENT  IN  MORALS  125 

emerges,  partly  by  the  force  of  nature,  and  partly 
by  his  own  effort.  His  true  self  is  not  given,  but  is 
something  to  be  attained  or  won. 

Hence,  in  the  development  of  man,  we  find  several 
leading  factors.  First,  we  have  a  body  of  instincts, 
appetites,  and  passions  which  lie  back  of  all  volition 
as  expressions  of  our  nature  itself.  These  give  our 
life  a  certain  form  and  direction  on  their  own  ac- 
count. They  are  neither  reasoned  principles,  nor 
inventions  of  our  own ;  but  are  the  outcome  of  our 
constitution.  This  system  of  appetites,  passions, 
and  instincts  serves  to  initiate  us  into  life,  and  to 
prepare  the  way  for  the  higher  moral  and  rational 
activity.  With  the  cattle,  this  system  seems  to  be 
the  only  driving  force  in  their  development.  They 
are  not  called  to  self-development,  and  their  life 
goes  on  mechanically. 

But  with  man  this  automatic  form  of  life  is  only 
the  beginning ;  and  it  needs  to  be  sui^plemented  by 
the  rational  and  moral  activity  of  the  free  spirit. 
This  is  the  second  leading  factor  in  our  unfolding. 
Here  man  becomes  free  and  conscious  of  his  aims. 
Here  he  assumes  control  of  himself,  and  sets  himself 
to  perfect  and  complete  that  development  which 
begins  automatically,  but  is  carried  on  only  by  free- 
dom. Here  the  constitutional  becomes  moral ;  and 
the  natural  rises  to  the  plane  of  the  spiritual.  To 
effect  just  this  change,  to  lift  the  natural  and  in- 
stinctive to  the  plane  of  the  rational  and  spiritual,  to 
bring  nature  under  the  control  of  right  reason  and 
to  develop  nature  in  accordance  with  right  reason — 
this  is  the  normal  function  of  freedom  in  human  life. 


126  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

But  this  freedom  may  serve  to  lift  up  the  natural 
or  to  drag  it  down.  Hence,  a  third  factor  in  our 
life.  This  is  the  evil,  the  selfish  will,  which  mis- 
uses its  freedom,  and  seeks  to  exploit  the  world  and 
society  for  its  own  private  interest  and  amusement. 
This  is  the  prolific  source  of  the  w^rongs,  the  oppres- 
sions, the  outrages,  the  basenesses,  the  infamies  of 
history. 

But  there  is  no  occasion  to  resort  to  this  third 
factor  in  order  to  explain  the  embryonic  and  imper- 
fect condition  of  our  moral  life.  This  results  neces- 
sarily from  the  relation  of  the  moral  to  the  natural. 
Many  abnormalities  of  life  arise  from  a  willingness 
to  do  wrong ;  but  many  more  are  due  to  the  imper- 
fection of  man,  considered  as  a  being  who  has  to 
develop  from  the  animal  to  the  moral.  We  are 
for  the  most  part  on  the  jDlane  of  the  natural,  the 
physical,  the  animal  even ;  and  our  lives  are  only 
to  a  very  slight  extent  moralized  and  rationalized. 
We  lack  knowledge,  seriousness,  thoughtfulness, 
self-control ;  and  any  passion  that  competes  for  us 
has  us.  Hence  the  strange  confusion  of  human  life. 
It  is  not  simply  an  instinctive  animal  life  like  that 
of  the  cattle ;  nor  is  it  a  life  of  rational  and  moral 
self-possession  such  as  w^e  conceive  that  of  the 
angel  to  be ;  but  it  is  a  life  w^hich  has  to  pass  from 
the  former  to  the  latter,  and  one  in  which  the  passage 
is  only  very  imperfectly  made.  Everywhere  we 
find  the  natural,  the  instinctive,  the  animal,  only 
half  humanized.  Instead  of  reason,  prejudice;  in- 
stead of  argument,  appeals  to  jmssion.  Abundant 
likes   and   dislikes,  all  irrational.     Abounding  en- 


DEVELOPMENT  IN   MORALS  127 

thusiasm  for  worthless  objects,  and  a  strange  dead- 
ness  toward  things  reverend  and  worthy.  To  tlie 
psychologist  this  is  perfectly  intelligible.  It  is  the 
necessary  outcome  of  our  nature  when  uncontrolled 
by  right  reason. 

The  embryonic  and  infantile  character  of  human 
life  in  its  upper  ranges  deserves  further  considera- 
tion. We  need  not  betake  ourselves  to  savage  lands 
to  discover  it;  for  wo  have  abundant  evidence 
among  ourselves.  As  yet  reason  and  conscience 
play  a  very  small  part  in  the  ordering  and  control 
even  of  mature  life.  Personal,  tribal,  and  national 
antipathies  and  prejudices,  notions  of  honor  or 
patriotism,  most  of  which  have  neither  moral  nor 
rational  standing,  are  illustrations.  Society  itself 
is  held  together,  less  by  rational  appreciation  and 
moral  devotion,  than  by  something  analogous  to  the 
herding  instinct  of  the  cattle.  This  instinct  binds 
men  together,  and  subjects  them  to  the  general  law 
of  the  herd ;  and  it  does  this  so  well  that,  in  the 
lower  ranges  of  society,  the  individual  has  no  rights, 
and  even  no  thought  of  rights,  as  against  the  tribe. 
This  utter  subjection  of  the  individual  is  the  only 
thing  which  saves  rudimentary  societies  from  an- 
archy. There  being  no  proper  thought  or  knowl- 
edge, the  instinct,  or  consolidated  experience,  of 
the  mass  is  a  far  safer  guide  than  the  whimsey  of 
the  individual.  The  form  of  human  development 
makes  mental  and  moral  tutelage  a  necessit}'  for  a 
large  part  of  the  race;  and  nothing  can  well  be 
more  ludicrous  than  a  person  who  assumes  to  be  in- 


128  PRINCIPLES    OF   ETHICS 

dependent  while  his  development  corresponds  to  the 
state  of  tutelage.  The  professional  freethinker  is 
an  excellent  illustration.  He  insists  on  thinking 
for  himself  before  he  has  learned  to  think  at  all. 
Such  a  procedure,  while  amusing  in  sporadic  cases, 
is  perilous  when  it  becomes  epidemic.  Hence  the 
herding  instinct  is  a  necessary  factor  in  the  begin- 
ning of  society.  It  does  not  bring  social  develojD- 
ment  very  far,  but  it  makes  a  foundation  on  which 
something  better  may  be  built.  Indeed,  the  most 
advanced  society  is  far  from  being  able  to  dispense 
with  it.  A  large  part  of  patriotism  and  national 
feeling  is  only  one  phase  of  this  instinct,  complicated 
with  our  native  pugnacity. 

We  find  the  same  thing  underlying  minor  social 
groups.  There  is  no  political  association  held  to- 
gether by  a  rational  grasp  of  principles.  The  bond 
is  of  a  non-rational  sort.  Hence  the  need  of  torch- 
light processions,  brass  bands,  monster  rallies,  fire- 
works, transparencies,  and  stump  speeches ;  none  of 
which  can  be  looked  upon  as  having  any  elements 
of  rationality. 

Eeligious  denominations  are  equally  dependent 
uiDon  the  herding  instinct  as  a  bond  of  union.  Very 
few  of  their  members  have  any  rational  insight 
into  the  questions  involved.  The  belief  is  mostly 
inherited  and  blindly  maintained.  Words  and 
names  serve  as  a  sufficient  rallying-cry ;  and,  if 
anything  more  is  needed,  animal  pugnacity  is  at 
hand.  In  this  field  especially,  ignorance  is  the 
mother  of  devotion ;  only  the  devotion  is  not  of  a 
high  grade. 


DEVELOPMENT  IN  MORALS  129 

If  we  consider  the  formal  moral  life  of  the  indi- 
vidual, we  find  the  same  immaturity.  The  first 
thing  that  strikes  us  here  is  that  the  vast  majority 
of  men  have  no  properly  moral  aims  at  all.  They 
are  absorbed  chiefly  in  the  pursuit  of  things  external 
to  themselves,  which  minister  in  no  way  to  their 
mental  or  spiritual  enlargement.  The  life  is  mainly 
animal,  and  seldom  rises  above  the  plane  of  psycho- 
logical instincts  and  impulses.  The  things  upon 
which  human  beings  pride  themselves  make  a  sad 
list  for  one  who  is  trying  to  view  men  as  children 
of  the  Highest,  or  even  as  the  rational  animals  of 
Aristotle. 

And  not  only  are  our  notions  of  duty  limited,  but 
in  the  performance  of  what  is  agreed  upon  as  duty, 
we  are  often  swayed  by  other  than  moral  motives — 
say  pride,  sympathy,  love  of  approval  or  applause, 
regard  for  public  opinion,  fear  of  external  conse- 
quences, etc.  These  are  not  immoral  motives, 
neither  are  they  moral.  They  are  rather  psycholog- 
ical motives  founded  in  our  nature ;  and  they  often 
serve  as  valuable  moral  auxiliaries.  Indeed,  in 
the  embryonic  condition  of  the  moral  life  generally, 
we  cannot  afford  to  dispense  with  these  motives  in 
the  development  of  men  and  society.  They  are  the 
analogues  in  moral  development  of  rewards,  prizes, 
and  penalties  in  the  mental  development  of  children. 
The  latter  often  serve  to  supplement  a  weak  or 
wanting  intellectual  interest,  and  help  to  a  develop- 
ment otherwise  unattainable.  Acording  to  Adam 
Smith,  "the  great  secret  of  education  is  to  direct 
vanity  to  proper  objects."  The  motive  is  not  the 
9 


130  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

highest,  but  it  is  adapted  to  the  grade  of  develop- 
ment. And  as  the  appeal  to  the  pure  love  of  knowl- 
edge is  often  inefficient  with  children  unless  re- 
enforced  by  other  motives,  so  the  appeal  to  simple 
duty  is  largely  powerless  to  stir  men  unless  aided 
by  other  motives.  This  admixture  of  lower  mo- 
tives is  everywhere  apparent.  Probably  no  good 
work  of  any  moment  was  ever  yet  carried  through 
without  their  support.  No  nation  can  depend  on 
pure  patriotism  alone.  Hire  and  salary  must  also 
be  considered.  Even  religion  finds  it  necessary  to 
offer  attractions  which  are  not  strictly  of  an  ideal 
type.  Hence  the  unpleasant  impression  so  often 
made  by  a  close  acquaintance  with  heroes,  patriots, 
and  saints.  We  are  disturbed  and  shocked  to  find 
the  golden  image  with  feet  of  clay.  Prejudices, 
vanities,  selfishness,  unseen  and  unsuspected  at  a 
distance,  are  revealed  on  closer  inspection.  These 
things  are  not  necessarily,  nor  even  commonly, 
signs  of  hypocrisy.  They  are  rather  in  most  cases 
the  result  of  an  imperfect  moralization  of  the  person, 
a  necessary  phase  of  human  life  in  its  slow  transition 
from  the  animal  and  natural  to  the  moral  and 
spiritual.  Ignorance,  passion,  prejudice  are  still 
present  and,  upon  occasion,  stand  revealed.  Indeed, 
these  godly  men  are  often  among  the  grittiest  when 
their  prejudices  or  supposed  interests  are  involved, 
especially  if  they  chance  to  take  a  religious  turn. 
The  history  of  the  Christian  church,  even  in  our 
own  time,  abounds  in  instructive  illustration.  It 
would  indeed  be  gross  injustice  to  call  such  men 
hypocrites;  but  certainly  we  must  allow   that  in 


DEVELOPMENT   IN   MORALS  131 

their  case  that  which  is  perfect  has  not  yet  come, 
and  that  they  do  not  always  know  what  spirit  they 
are  of. 

Life  and  social  development,  then,  are  not  carried 
on  mainly  hy  moral  motives  but  rather  by  natural 
ones.  This,  indeed,  is  not  an  order  in  which  we 
can  rest ;  for  until  the  natural  is  lifted  to  the  plane 
of  the  rational  and  spiritual,  perfect  life  cannot  be 
reached ;  but,  as  a  temporary  order,  it  is  made  neces- 
sary by  the  form  of  our  development.  It  is  proba- 
ble that  thus  far  human  progress  owes  far  more  to 
our  self-regarding  activities,  and,  in  this  sense,  to 
selfishness,  than  it  does  to  conscious  moral  effort. 
The  simple  desire  for  property,  without  any  high 
moral  or  social  aims,  has  helped  society  on,  possibl}^ 
more  than  any  other  factor  of  our  nature.  It  is 
beyond  question  that  the  institution  of  property  has 
been  one  of  the  most  potent  forces  in  our  moral 
development.  As  an  end,  wealth  may  deserve  all 
the  condemnation  which  has  been  heaped  upon  it, 
but  as  an  instrument,  its  significance  for  all  sides  of 
our  life  cannot  easily  be  over-estimated. 

Facts  of  the  kind  we  have  been  considering  easily 
lend  themselves  to  a  shallow  cynicism.  In  truth, 
however,  they  only  imply  our  moral  incomj^leteness, 
and,  rightly  considered,  they  are  the  great  ground 
of  charity  in  our  moral  judgments  of  men. 

It  is,  then,  a  somewhat  variegated  spectacle  that 
human  life  presents  in  its  moral  aspects.  We  have 
neither  the  satisfied  animalism  of  the  cattle,  nor 
the  serene  moral  self-possession  of  the  angel,  but  a 
being  who  has  to  effect  his  own  transition  from  the 


132  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

animal  and  automatic  to  the  moral  and  free.  Of 
course,  anywhere  along  this  line  the  will  to  do  right 
is  possible,  and  thus  moral  character  is  possible. 
The  weak,  the  silly,  the  savage  may  be  faithful  to 
their  ideals  of  right.  This  loyalty  is  not  reserved 
for  the  great,  the  wealthy,  the  learned,  the  men  of 
genius ;  but  it  is  possible  also  to  the  ignorant  and 
feeble-minded,  to  the  poor  widow  over  against  the 
treasury,  and  to  Lazarus  at  the  rich  man's  gate. 
But  this  will  to  do  right  in  no  way  implies  the  per- 
fection of  the  moral  life,  but  only  its  central  element 
and  its  indispensable  condition.  The  will  must  be 
realized  in  fitting  forms,  and  the  entire  life  be  made 
an  expression  of  right  reason  before  that  which  is 
perfect  can  come. 

Moral  development  may  take  three  general  direc- 
tions: First,  the  unfolding  of  the  moral  ideal  and 
the  strengthening  of  the  sense  of  duty ;  secondly, 
the  application  of  principles  possessed  to  action  or 
to  the  formation  of  a  corresponding  code  and  the 
development  of  institutions;  thirdly,  the  extension 
of  the  moral  field.  The  last  form  is  double.  The 
moral  field  may  be  extended  by  bringing  more 
and  more  of  our  acts  under  the  head  of  duty,  and 
by  recognizing  that  we  owe  duties  to  beings  who 
have  hitherto  not  been  included  within  our  ethical 
sphere.  The  first  form  of  development  is  within 
the  moral  person  himself.  The  second  form  implies 
an  extension  of  practical  wisdom,  so  that  the  moral 
principles  do  not  lose  their  way  by  misdirection, 
but  are  embodied  in  more  and  more  fitting  forms. 


DEVELOPMENT   IN  MORALS  133 

The  third  form  imphes  the  gradual  extension  of  the 
law  of  duty  over  the  entire  life  of  the  individual  and 
of  society,  and  also  the  inclusion  of  at  least  all 
human  beings  within  the  sphere  of  moral  relations. 
In  none  of  these  respects  is  the  moral  life  perfect. 
Men  in  general  need  a  higher  ideal  and  a  stronger 
sense  of  duty.  They  also  need  more  wisdom  in  the 
api)lication  of  moral  principles  to  practical  life ;  and 
finally,  they  need  to  give  a  moral  form  to  their  en- 
tire life  and  to  bring  all  human  beings  within  the 
moral  area  where  mutual  rights  and  duties  are 
recognized. 

The  development  of  the  ideal  is  a  highly  complex 
matter.  Its  most  important  factor  is  the  will  to  do 
right.  Where  this  is  present,  the  most  important 
element  in  moral  development  is  given ;  and  without 
it,  moral  life  sinks  into  merely  natural  life.  Un- 
fortunately, speculation  knows  of  no  way  of  com- 
pelling men  to  be  willing  to  do  right.  It  can  only 
tell  men  what  they  ought  to  be  and  do,  and  leave 
them  to  supply  the  willingness  to  obey.  The  ideal 
also  is  bound  up  with  our  general  conception  of  the 
meaning  and  destiny  of  human  life.  If  we  form  a 
low  estimate  of  these,  the  ideal  will  be  low  to  cor- 
respond. Historically,  the  most  important  force  in 
raising  the  moral  ideal  of  humanity  was  the  appear- 
ance in  history  of  Jesus  of  Nazareth,  his  influence 
depending  especially  upon  what  he  was,  and  also 
upon  his  thought  of  man  and  man's  destiny. 

The  second  direction  of  development  relates  to  the 
application  of  moral  principles  to  life,  or  to  the 
formation  of  a  code.     This,  however,  does  not  mean 


134  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

that  men  began  with  abstract  principles  and  then 
embodied  them  in  codes.  On  the  contrary,  the 
moral  life  began  spontaneously,  and  when  reflection 
began  it  found  a  more  or  less  developed  system  of 
duties  already  existing.  With  regard  to  this  sys- 
tem, or  the  great  practical  forms  of  life,  the  family, 
the  state,  etc.,  reflection  has  not  the  function  of 
creation  but  only  of  criticism.  But  as  these  spon- 
taneous forms  are  never  perfect  in  their  own  realm, 
and  are  very  limited  in  their  range,  there  is  need 
both  of  rectification  and  of  extension.  In  this  sense, 
then,  we  may  speak  of  moral  develof)ment  arising 
from  the  specification  of  moral  principles  into  codes. 
The  need  of  this  development  is  manifest.  Not 
only  must  our  activity  have  a  moral  form,  it  must 
also  be  in  accord  with  the  nature  of  things.  If  we 
suppose  a  man  to  act  entirely  from  good  will  and 
thus  to  satisfy  the  formal  moral  demand  upon  him, 
it  is  plain  that  only  half  of  the  practical  problem 
has  been  solved.  He  must  next  consider  how  best 
to  apply  this  principle;  and  not  until  the  right 
principle  has  been  specified  into  a  corresponding 
code  will  the  theory  be  complete.  Until  then,  the 
good  will  may  lose  its  way  through  ignorance  of 
human  nature,  of  physical  nature,  and  of  social  and 
economic  laws.  Indeed,  this  is  what  has  often  hap- 
pened in  human  history.  A  large  part  of  benev- 
olent activity  has  been  thwarted  and  brought  to 
naught,  if  not  to  jiositive  mischief,  by  sociological 
and  economic  ignorance.  Of  good  will  working  for 
the  prevention  of  evil  by  encouraging  thrift  and  by 
bettering  physical  and  social  conditions,  we  have 


DEVELOPMENT  IN   MORALS  135 

had  all  too  little ;  and  that  little  has  commonly  been 
unwise. 

This  development  of  moral  principles  into  a  com- 
prehensive code  for  life  is  all  the  more  necessary 
from  the  fact,  that  social  development  has  largely 
gone  on  without  reference  to  moral  ideas.  This  is 
so  much  the  case  in  the  two  great  fields  of  economics 
and  legislation,  that  the  notion  has  become  very 
prevalent  that  morals  have  nothing  to  do  with  law 
and  business,  and  that,  not  merely  as  a  statement 
of  fact,  about  which  there  would  be  little  dispute, 
but  as  a  proper  division  of  labor.  Of  course  the 
particular  results  in  any  field  can  never  be  deter- 
mined by  abstract  moral  ideas ;  yet  ethics  reserves 
the  right  to  prescribe  the  aim  and  general  principles 
of  development  in  every  field  of  life. 

This  development  of  a  code  must  be  inspired  by 
good  will,  and  guided  by  experience  of  consequences. 
If  we  find  the  ruling  code  in  conflict  w^ith  the  com- 
mon good,  it  is  manifest  that  we  are  on  the  wrong 
track.  Or  if  we  find  it  indifferent  to  the  common 
good,  it  has  plainly  lost  its  reason  for  existence.  If 
we  had  perfect  insight  into  consequences,  we  should 
need  no  code  whatever  beyond  that  insight  and 
the  moral  ideal,  and  could  manage  each  case  by  it- 
self. But  as  we  have  no  such  insight,  we  have  to 
specify  the  law  of  good  will  into  general  and  well 
understood  rules,  under  which  particular  cases  may 
be  subsumed.  Such  are  the  formal  principles  of 
conduct,  the  doctrine  of  rights,  and  all  the  moral 
customs  of  society.  These  seem  to  be  direct  expres- 
sions of  the  moral  nature,  but,  in  fact,  they  are  only 


136  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

the  form  in  which  the  moral  nature  develops  under 
the  special  circumstances  of  human  life.  Most  of 
them  would  have  no  meaning,  if  the  circumstances 
of  life  were  changed. 

The  difficulty  of  the  problem  is  much  increased  by 
the  complexity  of  its  factors.  If  mere  good  feeling 
were  the  only  good,  the  matter  would  be  relatively 
simple ;  but  as  the  aim  is  to  develop  ideal  life,  we 
have  carefully  to  study  the  bearing  of  our  action 
upon  this  end ;  and  this  involves  a  careful  study  of 
human  nature  itself.  The  law  of  love  remains 
absolute  as  a  disposition,  but  in  application  it  re- 
ceives many  limitations,  arising  from  the  nature  and 
circumstances  of  the  individual.  Too  much  help  is 
found  to  be  a  damage  to  all  concerned.  The  indi- 
vidual needs  a  sphere  in  which  he  is  resiDonsible  for 
himself,  and  is  also  free  from  all  uninvited  interfer- 
ence, however  well  meant.  He  needs  to  know  what 
he  may  demand  from  others,  what  he  may  expect 
from  them,  and  to  what  extent  he  must  rely  upon 
himself.  The  enforcement  of  a  large  measure  of 
self-dependence  on  the  part  of  all  who  are  not  dis- 
abled is  the  supreme  condition  of  human  progress. 
The  stings  and  lashes  of  hunger  and  cold  are  the 
only  things  competent  to  stir  the  inertia  of  multi- 
tudes of  human  beings.  In  addition,  social  and 
economic  laws  have  to  be  mastered.  No  amount 
of  good  will  can  prevent  economic  misconceptions 
from  working  disastrously;  as  no  amount  of  good 
will  can  excuse  a  farmer  from  the  necessity  of 
studying  the  laws  of  vegetation. 

The  good  will  also  needs  some  quantitative  meas- 


DEVELOPMENT  IN  MORALS  137 

ure  in  manifestation.  In  this  way  a  limit  is  set  in 
practice,  and  a  rule  is  given  for  expectation.  The 
same  need  is  found  in  the  manifestation  of  all  the 
virtues.  As  dispositions  they  are  always  binding; 
but  the  concrete  duty  must  have  a  measure.  This 
field  abounds  in  uncertainty  and  embarrassment  un- 
til some  limit  is  set;  and  the  conscientious  man 
feels  it  most.  The  customs  of  society  sujDply  a  rule 
in  such  cases.  How  far  shall  gratitude  go  in  man- 
ifestation? The  disposition  contains  no  limitation, 
but  in  practice  we  have  to  fix  a  limit.  Humanity 
makes  some  of  its  most  mortifying  exhibitions  in 
connection  v/ith  this  virtue.  Of  course,  ingratitude 
is  unspe^ikably  base ;  yet  the  benefactor  is  rarely  a 
safe  judge  of  the  merits  of  his  deed.  In  general, 
humanity  is  so  coarse-grained  that  a  favor  commonly 
costs  all  it  is  worth  before  one  is  done  with  it. 

The  moral  nature  primarily  commands  no  con- 
crete action,  but  gives  only  the  spirit  from  which 
action  should  spring.  The  corresponding  action  is 
learned  from  experience.  But  in  a  world  like  ours, 
with  its  fixed  laws  and  relations,  certain  fundamen- 
tal forms  of  conduct  are  quickly  discerned ;  and  the 
inner  principle  necessarily  comes  to  find  expression 
in  these  forms.  In  this  way,  these  forms  come  to 
be  regarded  as  having  all  the  sacredness  of  the  prin- 
ciple itself,  and  as  being  an  immediate  utterance  of 
conscience.  In  this  way,  also,  a  conventional  con- 
science is  reached  which  often  becomes  a  refuge  for 
prejudice  and  superstition.  The  form  of  conduct  is 
exalted  above  its  living  spirit.  This  is  especially  seen 
in  religious  ethics,  where  the  code  of  duties  often 


138  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

runs  off  into  purely  artificial  commands  without 
any  real  connection  with  either  utility  or  reverence. 
Whether  to  make  the  sign  of  the  cross  with  two 
fingers  or  three  has  been  an  ethical  question  of 
great  importance,  while  the  reverence  of  cajaital 
letters  is  something  which  it  is  impious  to  withhold. 
Failure  in  observing  some  minute  ecclesiastical 
regulation  is  viewed  as  worse  than  a  violation  of 
justice  or  good  will.  Facts  of  this  kind,  and  the 
ease  with  which  the  conventional  conscience  can  be 
induced  to  sanction  anything  traditional,  lend  some 
color  to  the  utilitarian  claim  that  the  apjDeal  to  con- 
science in  ethics  is  to  appeal  from  reason  to  bigotry 
and  superstition.  It  might  have  been  added  that, 
in  not  a  few  cases,  the  appeal  to  conscience  is  the 
last  and  favorite  resource  of  hypocrisy. 

The  system  of  concrete  actions,  that  is,  our  code 
of  conduct,  is  subject  to  change.  When  a  form  of 
conduct  which  has  been  supposed  obligatory  is  found 
to  be  indifferent  or  pernicious  in  its  outcome,  we 
change  at  last  our  moral  estimate.  Or  when  con- 
duct which  has  been  sujDposed  indifferent  is  found 
to  have  good  or  evil  results,  we  command  or  pro- 
hibit accordingly.  Only  in  this  way  do  our  codes  be- 
come exjDressions  of  the  rational  good  will  which  they 
ought  to  embody.  In  this  way,  also,  many  absurdi- 
ties are  eliminated  from  our  codes,  and  conscience 
is  extended  over  larger  and  larger  fields.  The 
growth  of  society  brings  with  it  new  forms  of  duty 
and  new  forms  of  crime.  Neither  class  is  at  first 
recognized  as  such.     There  is  no  moral  conviction 


DEVELOPMENT  IN  MORALS  139 

on  the  subject ;  but  if  the  moral  spirit  live  within 
us,  the  conviction  is  sure  to  come.  Drinking, 
gaml)ling,  and  various  jDernicious  forms  of  business 
activity  are  cases  in  point.  Hence  the  good  man  of 
to-day  will  regard  as  duty  many  things  which  were 
not  so  regarded  in  the  times  of  Augustus  Ca3sar. 
He  will  also  disallow  many  things  which  were  then 
permitted.  Consequences  have  declared  them- 
selves; knowledge  has  increased;  the  meaning  of 
life  has  deepened ;  and  the  ideal  of  humanity  has 
enlarged.  Accordingly,  the  man  who  to-day  seeks 
to  live  in  the  spirit  of  good  will  and  helpfulness  will 
have  a  code  very  different  in  details  from  that  of 
his  equally  devoted  brother  in  ancient  Eome. 

This  development  takes  esi:>ecially  the  direction  of 
social  ethics  in  distinction  from  individual  ethics. 
The  average  man  has  commonly  no  conscience  in 
public  duties,  his  insight,  such  as  it  is,  extending 
only  to  personal  relations.  Even  those  who  regard 
conventional  morality  in  personal  matters  are  often 
wofully  lacking  in  cases  where  the  public  interests 
are  concerned.  This  also  is  largely  due  to  thought- 
lessness and  immaturity.  There  is  not  thought 
enough  to  see  that  the  social  order  is  the  only  thing 
which  makes  individual  development  possible,  and 
that  in  its  support  every  one  should  bear  his  part. 

Hence  there  is  not  only  a  very  general  willing- 
ness to  shirk  public  burdens,  but,  apparently,  there 
is  often  an  implicit  assumption  of  a  natural  right  to 
plunder  the  public.  Public  interests  are  a  common 
where  every  one  may  forage  for  himself.  And  this 
notion  is  not  confined  by  any  means  to  the  rude 


140  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

laborer  who  seeks  a  position  on  the  public  works  for 
revenue  only ;  but  we  are  often  surprised  at  finding 
persons  of  reputation,  social  standing,  and  even  of 
supposed  character  making  extravagant  and  fraud- 
ulent demands  for  services  rendered,  for  property 
sold,  for  alleged  damages,  etc.,  in  cases  where  the 
public  is  concerned.  These  things  by  no  means 
always  imply  conscious  wrong-doing.  They  are 
rather  due  to  the  fact  that  the  individual  has  not 
reached  the  conception  of  social  duties  at  all.  Mean- 
while, the  lack  of  insight  and  moral  devotion  has 
to  be  supplemented  by  laws  and  penalties ;  and  the 
constable  takes  the  jDlace  of  conscience. 

This  fact  suggests  that  the  development  of  a  moral 
code  is  partly  identical  with  the  development  of  law. 
Law  and  morality,  however,  have  so  often  been 
held  apart  and  even  j^laced  in  antithesis,  that  a 
word  as  to  their  ideal  relation  seems  desirable. 

We  have  seen  that  morality  has  a  subjective  and 
an  objective  aspect.  The  former  looks  to  the  motive, 
the  disposition,  the  spirit  of  the  agent.  The  latter 
looks  only  to  the  objective  nature  and  consequences 
of  the  deed.  In  concrete  ethics,  we  must  have  both 
the  good  will  and  the  appropriate  manifestation. 
As  life  develops,  the  fitting  forms  of  action  are 
gradually  recognized  and  become  customs  and  con- 
ventions. When  society  perceives  the  appropriate- 
ness and  necessity  of  these  customs  for  human  life 
and  development,  and  authoritatively  imposes  them 
upon  its  members,  then  they  become  laws.  Or  if 
society  by  direct  study  of  its  problems,  sees  that  cer- 
tain courses  of  action  must  be  furthered,  and  others 


\ 


DEVELOPMENT  IN   MORALS  141 

forbidden,  in  order  that  the  common  good  may  l)e 
secured,  it  may  command  or  prohibit,  and  thus 
again  we  reach  laws.  In  both  of  these  cases,  the 
laws  are  but  objective  expressions  of  the  moral 
spirit.  They  are  objective  morality  turned  into 
statutes.  This  is  the  ideal  relation  of  law  and 
morality.  Historically,  of  course,  this  ideal  has 
not  always  been  regarded;  and  yet  even  in  the 
worst-governed  countries  the  great  body  of  law  has 
been  essentially  a  moral  institution. 

Law,  then,  has  a  moral  root  and  should  have  a 
moral  aim.  Morals,  on  the  other  hand,  must  ex- 
l^ress  itself  to  some  extent  in  law.  But  only  to 
some  extent.  And  this  leads  to  a  limitation  of  the 
legal  field.  The  moral  field  is  unlimited,  but  the 
legal  field  is  necessarily  limited.  The  common 
division  of  labor  between  the  legal  and  the  moral 
consists  in  turning  over  the  subjective  aspects  of 
action  to  morals,  while  law  has  to  do  with  deeds 
and  their  consequences.  This  division  is  unsatisfac- 
tory, and  we  reach  the  same  result  in  a  better  Avay, 
by  recognizing  that  the  legal  field  lies  within  the 
moral  field  but  is  far  from  being  co-extensive  with 
it.  The  law  confines  itself  to  deeds  and  does  not 
attempt  to  control  the  inner  life.  This  may  be 
never  so  immoral,  but  it  lies  beyond  the  reach  of 
the  law.  Again,  evil  deeds  lie  mostly  beyond  the 
reach  of  the  law.  No  law  can  cope  with  bad 
husbands,  disobedient  children,  grasping  landlords, 
wasteful  tenants,  rapacious  capitalists,  and  unprin- 
cipled laborers.  Gradually,  society  has  learned  to 
limit  the  field  of  law  to  certain  definite  matters,  and 


142  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

to  leave  all  beyond  them  to  morals  and  public 
opinion. 

The  fancy  tnat  morals  and  law  are  two  mutually 
independent  realms  arises  partly  from  a  failure  to 
notice  the  moral  ideas  implicit  in  every  legal  sys- 
tem, and  partly  from  the  fact  that,  in  most  legisla- 
tion, we  have  no  moral  dispute  but  only  a  question 
of  practical  expediency.  In  such  cases,  it  seems  as 
if  legislation  were  unrelated  to  morals.  Indeed,  it 
is  along  this  line  that  we  find  the  true  distinction 
between  ethics  and  the  other  practical  sciences. 
Ethics  claims  to  supervise  their  aims,  but  it  cannot 
dictate  to  them  their  results  or  methods.  In  so  far, 
law  and  economics  are  independent  sciences,  but 
only  in  so  far. 

In  general,  law  is  a  most  important  factor  in  our 
moral  evolution.  It  is  based  upon  moral  ideas ;  and 
it  gives  them  an  exactness  and  authority  which  they 
w^ould  be  long  in  reaching  without  law.  It  also 
serves  to  secure  right  conduct  in  advance  of  the 
best  motives.  In  the  field  of  public  duties  especially, 
law  is  generally  in  advance  of  the  morality  of  the 
average  individual.  In  such  cases,  the  institutional 
morality  of  law  furnishes  the  individual  an  imj)or- 
tant  guide  and  impulse  to  development. 

And  here  seems  to  be  as  good  a  place  as  any  for 
a  word  on  the  value  of  "moral  legislation,"  that  is, 
legislation  which  aims  at  the  moral  improvement 
of  the  community.  Such  legislation  is  commonly 
denounced  as  futile,  if  it  be  not  a  violation  of  per- 
sonal liberty.  Men,  it  is  said,  cannot  be  made  moral 
by  legislation.     The  reason  alleged  is  that  morality. 


DEVELOPMENT  IN   MORALS  143 

being  purely  subjective,  cannot  be  reached  or  com- 
manded by  law.  But  this  is  quite  aside  from  the 
point.  Law  looks  not  to  intentions  but  to  deeds; 
and  by  the  prevention  of  deeds,  it  may  purify  the 
social  atmosphere  to  a  notable  extent.  If  the  law 
can  make  a  given  type  of  deed  unprofitable,  it  will 
moralize  society  by  diminishing  the  temptation  in 
that  direction.  Moreover,  as  we  have  seen,  moral- 
ity has  an  objective  as  well  as  a  subjective  aspect. 
Objective,  or  material  right  is  founded  in  the  nature 
of  things,  and  is  altogether  independent  of  the 
agent's  motives.  The  ideal,  indeed,  is  not  reached 
until  the  pure  motive  is  joined  to  the  right  act; 
but,  in  the  mean  time,  right  forms  of  action,  apart 
from  any  consideration  of  motive,  are  of  immense 
significance  in  the  moral  development  of  society. 
For  those  who  are  mentally  and  morally  undevel- 
oped, an  authority  which  prescribes  such  forms  does 
a  most  beneficent  work;  and  the  sanctions  and 
penalties  it  affixes  take  the  place  of  a  weak  or  want- 
ing moral  interest,  to  the  great  advantage  of  all 
concerned.  Indeed,  one  of  the  very  chiefest  ways 
of  moralizing  men  is  by  impartial  legislation  in  the 
interest  of  humanity.  In  default  of  moral  self-con- 
trol, law  and  penalty  must  take  the  place  of  con- 
science, and  may  help  greatly  in  its  development. 
The  laws  against  cruelty  to  animals  have  helped  to 
quicken  a  dormant  humanity.  The  legislation  con- 
cerning the  employment  of  women  and  children 
and  that  protecting  workmen  against  needless  risks 
have  been  of  service.  Such  legislation,  by  making 
wrong-doing  unprofitable,  takes  the  place  of  con- 


144  PRINCIPLES    OF   ETHICS 

science,  and  is  also  a  valuable  object-lesson  in 
morals.  We  conclude  that  the  objection  to  moral 
legislation  is  a  falsism  under  the  form  of  a  truism. 
Laws  may  help  and  laws  may  hinder.  Laws  estab- 
lishing lotteries  may  be  the  source  of  great  demor- 
alization. Laws  securing  the  secrecy  of  the  ballot 
may  be  potent  factors  in  political  reform. 

The  non-moralized  condition  of  art,  literature, 
trade,  politics,  diplomacy,  and  international  relations 
is  evident  upon  inspection.  Some  of  these,  indeed, 
notably  art  and  literature,  haA^e  furnished  themselves 
with  an  extensive  list  of  epithets,  smacking  strongly 
of  fleshly  cant,  for  expressing  resentment  at  the 
intrusion  of  morals  into  their  realm.  The  practical 
politician,  of  course,  would  need  at  least  the  gift  of 
tongues,  to  express  his  feelings  concerning  the  ap- 
parition of  conscience  in  politics. 

The  various  moral  customs  and  laws  of  society 
must  be  looked  upon  as  attempts  to  specify  the  liv- 
ing principle  of  good  will  so  as  best  to  secure  its  ends. 
A  double  error  is  possible  in  connection  with  them : 

First,  we  may  content  ourselves  with  a  lifeless 
observance  of  the  forms.  The  result  is  legalism, 
Pharisaism,  and  the  w^orthless  good  works  which 
theology  very  properly  denounces.  This  error  is 
encouraged  by  the  tendency  in  political  philosophy 
to  view  life  exclusively  from  the  jural  point  of 
view,  according  to  which  rights  only  are  considered, 
and  these  are  limited  to  such  as  may  be  legally  de- 
manded. 

Secondly,  these  forms  are  never  exhaustive  ex- 


DEVELOPMENT   IN   MORALS  145 

pressions  of  duty,  but  only  general  outlines.  Hence 
they  always  need  to  be  supplemented  by  the  free 
moral  spirit.  The  person  who  recognizes  no  duty 
beyond  what  can  be  legally  demanded  is  commonly 
not  moral  at  all,  since  he  performs  his  duties,  not 
from  free  devotion  and  good  will,  but  from  fear  of 
conseiiuences.  But  duty  itself,  except  in  its  inner 
spirit,  admits  of  no  exhaustive  expression.  The 
moral  spirit  is  indefinitely  greater  than  any  moral 
code.  In  the  application  of  princiijles,  there  will 
always  be  a  field  for  moral  originality  for  which  no 
law  can  be  laid  down.  Hence,  there  will  always  be 
a  formulated  and  an  unformulated  division  in  ethics. 
Obedience  in  the  former  is  often  mechanical  and 
Pharisaical;  it  is  in  the  latter  especially  that  we 
come  upon  the  true  spirit  of  a  life.  As  in  the  or- 
ganism, the  life  is  not  in  the  formed  matter,  but 
rather  in  the  formless  bioplasts ;  so  here  the  moral 
life  is  manifested,  less  in  the  formed  code,  than  in 
the  larger  field  where  the  spirit  is  a  law  unto  itself. 
Here  is  the  seat  of  moral  taste,  thoughtfulness, 
sympathy,  and  myriad  graces  of  character  Avhich 
are  at  once  indefinable  and  indispensable.  He  who 
lacks  them  finds  his  analogue  in  the  social  world  in 
the  person  who  must  consult  a  book  on  etiquette  to 
learn  how  to  behave. 

These  general  forms  may  also  need  at  times  to  be 
set  aside,  on  the  princijDle  that  the  law  was  made  for 
man  and  not  man  for  the  law.  Such  cases,  of 
course,  can  arise  only  under  abnormal  circum- 
statices;    and    whoever    departs    from    recognized 

moral  forms  does  so  at  his  own  risk.     These  forms 
10 


146  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

have  a  wonderful  way  of  vindicating  themselves; 
but,  on  the  other  hand,  a  man  who  should  bring 
down  the  heavens  by  an  act  of  formal  justice  could 
hardly  vindicate  himself  by  claiming  that  he  had 
no  responsibility  for  consequences,  or  by  repeating 
a  scrap  of  Latin.  The  ox  or  the  ass  may  be  pulled 
out  of  the  pit  on  the  Sabbath  day.  A  principle 
is  sometimes  better  maintained  by  breaking  the 
rule  than  by  obeying  it.  But  here  again,  no  law 
can  be  laid  down.  Practically,  the  outcome  will 
be  that  departures  from  conventional  morality  will 
be  approved  when  they  succeed,  and  condemned 
when  they  fail. 

But  this  seems  so  much  like  tampering  with  the 
moral  law,  if,  indeed,  it  be  not  another  form  of  the 
notorious  princijDle,  the  end  justifies  the  means,  that 
we  must  devote  another  word  to  it.  Inward  un- 
faithfulness and  dishonesty  are  always  condemned. 
The  moral  conventions  of  society  also  are,  for  the 
most  part,  the  conditions  of  social  order ;  and  to  de- 
part from  them  is  a  step  toward  anarchy  and  a 
war  of  all  against  all.  Hence  a  mind,  not  diabolic, 
can  be  little  less  than  insane  which  proposes  to 
pursue  a  good  end,  say  the  glory  of  God  or  the  ref- 
ormation of  society,  by  ignoring  the  essential  con- 
ditions of  moral  living.  It  is  only  in  cases  where 
the  letter  and  the  spirit  are  in  plain  opposition,  that 
there  can  be  any  thought  of  sacrificing  the  former 
to  the  latter. 

The   third   direction  of  moral   development,   we 
said,   concerns  the  extension  of  the  moral  sphere. 


DEVELOPMENT    IN    MORALS  147 

We  have  already  pointed  out  that  the  average  life 
is  lived  largely  on  the  plane  of  nature,  and  is  de- 
termined more  by  psychological  impulses  than  by 
moral  motives.  The  amount  of  this  unreclaimed 
wild  land  is  beyond  computation.  Reference  has 
already  been  made  to  the  lack  of  conscience  on 
social  duties.  In  politics  it  is  very  common  to  find 
persons  who,  while  quite  exemplary  in  private  life, 
take  their  party  for  their  conscience.  In  the  politi- 
cal action  of  the  private  citizen,  it  is  all  too  rare  to 
find  righteousness  considered  at  all.  This  is  Caesar's 
field.  In  private  life,  again,  it  is  only  too  apparent 
that  a  thoughtful  reflection  upon  what  is  wise  and 
right  is  seldom  the  source  of  action.  If  a  few  of 
the  conventional  moralities  are  regarded,  the  claims 
of  duty  are  all  met.  Of  the  need  of  making  the 
whole  life  an  expression  of  good  will  and  right  rea- 
son, there  is  little  apprehension.  Intemperance  in 
food  and  drink,  indiiference  to  one's  own  health, 
thus  entailing  often  great  loss  and  cost  upon  others, 
idleness,  content  in  ignorance  and  helplessness  are 
crimes.  The  chief  sins  against  humanity,  which  do 
not  involve  positive  malevolence,  are  to  be  found  in 
this  field ;  and  yet  so  little  are  we  developed,  that 
we  scarcely  recognize  these  things  as  crimes  at  all. 
The  duty,  in  contracting  marriage,  of  considering  the 
welfare  of  the  possible  children ;  the  duty  of  regard- 
ing sanitary  laws  in  a  community,  for  the  sake  of 
others,  if  not  for  one's  own;  it  can  hardly  be  said 
that  there  is  any  general  sense  of  duty  on  such 
matters.  Meanw^hile,  the  indifference  and  igno- 
rance are  punished  by  the  ill  health  of  multitudes 


148  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

and  by  the  death  of  a  half  of  the  race  in  the  first 
few  years  of  Hfe.  If  these  things  were  intentionally 
done,  they  would  be  murder.  As  it  is,  they  are  only 
ignorant  and  thoughtless  homicide. 

There  is,  then,  unlimited  room  for  development 
in  the  way  of  extending  the  control  of  right  reason 
and  good  will  in  the  individual  life.  The  other  di- 
rection in  which  the  moral  field  may  be  extend- 
ed lies  in  including  more  and  more  persons  within 
the  sphere  of  moral  relations.  In  this  respect,  the 
moral  history  of  the  race  has  shown  a  most  distress- 
ing slowness  of  development.  Morality  has  gener- 
ally been  family  and  tribal,  and  even  yet  it  remains 
largely  national  and  racial.  Formerly,  the  stranger 
was  commonly  viewed  as  an  enemy  without  rights ; 
and  even  now  he  is  often  regarded  as  one  to  be 
exploited  for  our  own  amusement  or  profit.  The 
most  arbitrary  distinctions  still  limit  our  sympa- 
thy and  affect  our  sense  of  obligation.  Differences 
of  clothing,  diet,  color,  features,  occupation,  lan- 
guage, sect,  nation  serve  to  found  prejudices  and 
dislikes  which  influence  our  moral  attitude,  and 
from  which  the  best  of  us  are  far  from  free.  It  is 
hard  to  think  of  a  physical  deformity  or  enormity 
as  not  warranting  a  different  bearing,  while  im- 
becility is  always  a  lawful  butt.  What  is  the  psy- 
chological basis  of  such  prejudices,  it  would  be  hard 
to  say.  They  have  many  analogies  in  the  animal 
world ;  and  in  any  case  their  historical  influence 
has  been  very  great.  They  have  been  the  raw 
material  of  a  good  deal  of  patriotism  and  of  vari- 
ous forms  of  loyalty. 


developmp:nt  in  morals  149 

And,  in  spite  of  the  disclaimer  just  made,  the  ex- 
planation of  these  facts  may  not  be  so  far  to  seek. 
They  seem  to  be  low  and  grotesque  specifications  of 
the  general  fact  that  any  living  sympathy  and  deep 
sense  of  obligation,  as  men  are  constituted,  are  con- 
ditioned by  the  recognition  of  a  common  nature  or 
of  some  common  interest.  Not  until  men  recognize 
themselves  as  belonging  to  a  common  kind,  or  com- 
mon group,  do  they  recognize  any  mutual  claims  or 
obligation.  It  is  this  fact  which  underlies  the  im- 
mense significance  of  institutions  for  the  moral  life 
of  men.  They  furnish  the  bond  of  fellowship,  and 
thus  furnish  a  field  for  the  unselfish  life.  The 
family,  the  state,  and  the  church  do  this  for  human- 
ity universally.  Minor  institutions  do  it  in  a  lesser 
degree.  Nor  will  moral  progress  be  reached  by 
emancipating  man  from  the  influence  of  this  fact  of 
human  nature,  but  rather  by  enlarging  and  exalt- 
ing the  idea  of  humanity  itself,  until  it  shall 
include  all  lower  kinds  and  abolish  all  artificial 
differences. 

But  with  influences  of  the  kind  described  largely 
determining  the  mutual  attitude  of  national  and 
tribal  groups,  it  is  not  strange  that  the  international 
activities  of  men  have  not  been  guided  by  high 
moral  aims.  The  predatory  character  of  early 
tribes  made  such  aims  impossible.  The  stranger 
was  an  enemy.  It  has  been  a  long  and  bloody  way 
from  those  predatory  beginnings  to  industrial  civil- 
ization; and  even  yet  the  old  hostility  has  by  no 
means  vanished.  Witness  the  armed  condition  of 
Europe. 


150  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

Of  duties  to  animals,  there  has  been  little  recog- 
nition, and  less  appreciation,  except  by  a  few. 
Long  ago  it  was  declared  that  the  merciful  man 
regardeth  the  life  of  his  beast ;  but  in  general  the 
dealings  of  man  with  the  animal  world  have  been 
a  revolting  round  of  brutalities.  Here  also  there  is 
room  for  extending  the  moral  area,  not  less  for  the 
sake  of  man  himself,  than  for  the  sake  of  the  ani- 
mals. Macaulay  is  supposed  to  have  made  an  ex- 
quisite hit  when  he  declared  that  the  Puritans  were 
ojDposed  to  bear-baiting  because  it  pleased  the  specta- 
tors, and  not  because  it  gave  pain  to  the  bear.  No 
better  reason  could  be  given  for  suppressing  the 
sport  than  its  brutalizing  effect  upon  the  spectators. 
The  perfect  development  of  the  human  kingdom 
upon  earth  involves  no  less  than  the  development 
and  harmony  of  the  animal  kingdom  and  even  of 
the  vegetable  kingdom,  with  their  mischievous  and 
destructive  elements  removed  or  controlled  as  far 
as  may  be,  and  with  all  their  possibilities  unfolding 
under  the  guidance  of  human  intelligence.  The 
direction  and  nature  of  terrestrial  life  are  coming 
more  and  more  under  human  control ;  and  if  there 
were  in  man  a  disposition  to  fulfil  his  commission 
"  to  dress  and  to  keep  "  the  world  in  which  he  has 
been  placed,  it  would  not  be  difficult  to  turn  the 
earth  into  a  garden  of  the  Lord. 

The  extension  of  the  moral  area  so  as  to  include 
more  and  more  persons  has  been,  and  still  is,  con- 
ditioned by  two  leading  factors,  peaceful  intercourse 
and    the   Christian   comprehension   of  all   men  as 


DEVELOPMENT   IN   MORALS  151 

children  of  a  common  Father.  Not  even  the  latter 
can  dispense  with  the  former.  For,  as  a  rule,  our 
sense  of  obligation  is  limited  by  our  sympathy; 
and  sympathy  depends  on  some  measure  of  acquaint- 
ance and  power  of  imagination.  Neither  the  sor- 
rows nor  the  wrongs  of  strangers  can  affect  us  as 
do  those  of  friends  and  allies;  and  without  some 
power  of  imagination  on  our  part,  they  cannot 
affect  us  at  all.  Here  is  a  psychological  limitation 
of  the  moral  field  which  must  not  be  overlooked. 
Whatever  brings  men  together  in  jDeaceful  ways, 
commerce  or  any  form  of  mutual  interest,  or  what- 
ever helps  to  a  better  knowledge  of  what  is  going 
on,  the  press,  the  telegraph,  etc.,  tends  to  the  en- 
largement of  sympathy,  and  thus  to  the  enlarge- 
ment of  the  moral  area.  Education  also  helps,  not 
merely  by  extending  knowledge,  but  also,  and  more 
particularly,  by  strengthening  the  power  of  imagi- 
nation, the  faculty  on  which  sympathy  rests.  Of 
special  significance  in  this  matter  is  the  growth  of 
industrial  society,  which  by  establishing  common 
interests  more  and  more  displaces  the  predatory 
type  of  thought  and  society.  Of  course  these  things 
need  to  be  supplemented  by  the  religious  and  moral 
conception  in  order  to  reach  any  high  result  or  any 
secure  rational  basis;  but  it  is  historically  plain  that 
that  conception  contrives  to  remain  largely  inopera- 
tive, until  practical  life  develops  some  measure  of 
intercourse  and  mutual  understanding. 

From  all  these  considerations  it  is  plain  that  the 
complete  moralization  of  life  is  a  long  way  off  in 
the  future.     A  prodigious  amount  of  work  remains 


152  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

to  be  done,  both  in  the  individual  raid  in  society. 
Art,  literature,  trade,  commerce,  politics,  law,  the 
press,  the  social  structure  itself,  all  partake  of  the 
imperfections  of  humanity,  and  all  need  to  be  re- 
deemed, not  indeed,  as  we  have  already  said,  in  the 
interest  of  a  narrow  ascetic,  or  ecclesiastical,  moral- 
it}^  but  in  the  interests  of  that  large,  ideal  human 
life  to  which  they  all  should  minister.  One  can  easily 
comprehend  that  art  and  literature  should  revolt 
against  an  ethics  of  the  type  mentioned,  and  should 
insist  that  there  are  other  interests  than  moral  ones, 
and  interests  quite  as  important.  It  is  just  this 
kind  of  revolt  on  the  part  of  life  that  has  saved 
civilization  from  destruction  at  the  hands  of  morals 
and  religion.  But  when  ethics  is  taken  in  its  true 
sense,  as  the  law  of  ideal  living,  its  rule  must  mani- 
festly be  made  universal ;  and  all  that  makes  against 
it  must  be  warred  upon  until  it  is  driven  from  the 
face  of  the  earth. 

It  is  plain,  too,  that  we  can  never  reach  this  end 
by  passively  resting  in  the  conventional  conscience. 
This  conscience  is  always  being  outgrown,  and 
always  fails  to  correspond  to  the  total  situation. 
The  great  need  of  our  time  in  practical  ethics  is  the 
serious  and  thoughtful  application  of  our  intellect 
and  our  knowledge  to  the  problems  of  conduct. 
Moral  progress  can  be  made  only  as  the  good  will 
is  informed  with  high  ideals,  and  is  guided  by  the 
critical  reason.  With  the  good  will  always  active 
and  intellect  ever  alert  and  critical,  bent  equally  on 
proving  all  things  and  on  holding  fast  all  that  is 
good,  we  may  hope  for  the  best  things,  but  on  no 


DEVELOPMENT   IN   MORALS  153 

other  conditions.  One  great  debt  to  the  utilitarian 
ethics  is  our  inabiHty  to  rest  in  conventional  and 
traditional  codes  which  can  show  no  solid  reason  for 
their  existence.  And  there  is  still  need  for  serious 
and  thoughtful  criticism.  All  the  way  from  the 
motives  and  aims  of  the  individual  life  up  to  the 
complex  structure  of  civilized  society,  there  is  need 
of  light.  In  particular  the  sense  of  social  responsi- 
bility needs  to  be  immeasurably  deepened.  Our 
narrow  individualism,  combined  with  the  torpor  of 
the  conventional  conscience,  has  produced  an  in- 
credible deadness  in  this  matter.  If  the  lives  of 
very  many  persons  of  supposed  morality  and  even 
of  professed  religion  were  openly  and  avowedly  de- 
voted to  the  materializing  and  brutalizing  of  so- 
ciety, they  would  not  be  more  effective  in  that 
direction  than  they  are  at  present.  The  evil  or 
selfish  will  is,  of  course,  a  great  obstacle  to  moral 
progress,  but  we  may  well  doubt  whether  ignorance 
and  thoughtlessness  are  not  still  greater. 

This  subject  of  moral  development  naturally  sug- 
gests a  question  once  thought  to  be  of  the  utmost 
importance,  but  which  is  now  seen  to  be  of  only 
secondary  interest.  We  close  the  chapter  by  a 
brief  reference  to  the  universality  of  moral  ideas. 

The  validity  of  moral  principles  in  no  way  depends 
on  their  being  universally  recognized.  The  dis- 
covery of  tribes  below  the  moral  i^lane  would  have 
no  more  significance  for  ethics  than  the  discovery 
of  tribes  below  the  rational  plane  would  have  for 
physical  science.     Sub-moral  and  sub-rational  exist- 


154  PRINCIPLES   OF    ETHICS 

ence  is  always  with  us  in  the  case  of  young  children ; 
and,  if  we  should  find  it  elsewhere,  it  would  have 
no  greater  significance. 

This  question  as  to  the  universality  of  moral  ideas 
has  often  been  debated  on  the  assumption  that  the 
validity  of  moral  principles  is  involved  in  the  an- 
swer. As  little  need  we  tremble  for  mathematics, 
if  some  savages  were  found  without  the  multijDlica- 
tion  table.  The  assumption  in  question  was  based 
upon  the  various  misunderstandings  by  the  sensa- 
tional philosophy  to  which  reference  was  made  in  the 
Introduction.  By  means  of  these  mistakes,  a  large 
body  of  writers  on  ethics  have  been  sent  off  on  a 
wild-goose  chase ;  and  ethical  philosophy  has  been 
burdened  with  a  great  mass  of  irrelevant  discussion. 
Innumerable  deductions  of  moral  faculty  have 
been  vouchsafed  us,  in  which  flogged  curs  have 
played  a  notable  jDart.  Luckily,  this  philosophy 
and  its  four-footed  accomplices  have  had  their  day. 
It  has  finally  become  clear  that  the  philosophy  was 
only  a  set  of  verbal  identifications,  and  that  in  its 
best  estate  it  throws  no  light  upon  practice.  Our 
duties  must  depend  upon  ourselves  and  our  environ- 
ment as  we  now  are,  however  we  became  so.  No 
reflection  upon  the  dogs  aforesaid  would  help  to  a 
solution  of  the  socialistic  question,  or  the  problem  of 
church  and  state,  or  would  throw  any  light  on  the 
duty  of  truth-telling,  honesty,  etc.  As  well  might 
we  seek  to  construct  a  table  of  logarithms  by  reflect- 
ing profoundly  upon  the  claim  that  man  originally 
learned  to  count  on  his  fingers  and  toes. 

The  inquiry,  then,  into  the  universality  of  moral 


DEVELOPMENT   IX   MORALS  155 

ideas  may  be  looked  upon  as  ethically  unimi^ortant, 
in  the  form  in  which  it  is  commonly  raised.  There 
is,  however,  an  interest  in  tracing  the  unity  of  the 
moral  nature  in  its  various  manifestations. 

The  considerations  of  the  first  part  of  this  chapter 
lead  us  to  expect  great  diversity  in  codes  according 
to  the  measure  of  mental  and  moral  development. 
It  was  there  pointed  out  that  moral  conceptions  are 
by  no  means  the  only,  or  the  main,  driving  force  of 
life.  There  are  various  f»assions,  impulses,  instincts, 
both  selfish  and  social,  rational  and  irrational, 
which  enter  into  life,  and  give  it  a  definite  form 
on  their  own  account.  These  precede  the  moral 
and  rational  development  and  furnish  the  raw 
material  of  life;  and  our  moral  task  is  to  reduce 
it  to  the  order  of  right  reason.  Pending  this  re- 
duction, we  must  expect  to  find  diversity  and 
confusion. 

Confining  our  attention  to  morals,  we  find  no 
harmony  in  the  actual  codes  of  men.  As  already 
pointed  out,  there  is  scarcely  any  barbarity  or 
horror  which  has  not  been  at  least  allowed,  and 
scarcely  any  puerility  or  superstition  which  has  not 
been  commanded.  The  worst  of  these,  however, 
generally  occur  in  connection  with  religion,  and  find 
some  explanation  in  that  fact.  In  any  case,  these 
diversities  forbid  us  to  find  in  concrete  codes  the 
immediate  object  of  moral  insight.  We  must  look 
at  the  principles  of  action,  if  we  would  find  agree- 
ment. The  facts  would  seem  to  be  somewhat  as 
follows : 


156  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

First,  the  feeling  of  obligation,  the  idea  of  a  right 
and  a  wrong  with  corresponding  duties  is  universal. 
At  the  same  time,  it  must  be  admitted  that  the 
intensity  of  this  feeling  and  of  its  emotional  attend- 
ants is  a  highly  variable  quantity. 

Secondly,  there  is  a  very  general  agreement  in 
the  formal  principles  of  action,  and  largely  in  the 
virtues  also.  Benevolence,  justice,  gratitude  are 
approved  wherever  they  are  known,  and  their  of)po- 
sitesare  condemned.  The  Proverbs  of  Solomon  and 
some  of  the  earliest  Egyj)tian  writings  testify  to  the 
constancy  of  human  nature,  both  in  its  virtues  and 
in  its  weaknesses.  The  observations  and  advice  of 
those  ancient  moralists  are  not  antiquated  to-day. 
The  Greek  moralists  are  not  outgrown.  The  Indian 
and  Chinese  sages  reveal  a  moral  nature  like  ours. 
The  old  saints,  under  all  difference  of  garb  and 
custom,  are  entirely  intelligible  in  their  motives  and 
virtues ;  and.  the  old  sinners  need  no  interpreter. 

The  differences  which  exist  in  the  formal  princi- 
ples of  conduct  concern  chiefly  the  extent  of  their 
application.  Whether  we  owe  anything  to  our 
neighbor  has  never  been  a  real  question.  The  prac- 
tical trouble  has  always  lain  in  the  other  question. 
Who  is  my  neighbor?  The  extent  of  the  moral 
area,  that  is,  of  the  field  within  which  we  have 
mutual  duties,  is  variously  conceived,  the  field  ex- 
tending all  the  way  from  simple  family  and  tribal 
limits  to  humanity,  and  even  to  all  sensitive  exist- 
ence. The  slow  growth  of  inter-tribal  morality  is 
a  necessary  consequence  of  their  historical  relations. 
Tribal  and  national  groups  have  generally  known 


DEVELOPMENT   IN  MORALS  157 

no  law  but  that  of  selfishness  and  violence;  and 
under  such  a  law  there  is  no  place  for  morality.  If 
the  most  civilized  and  Christianized  nation  should 
find  itself  threatened  by  such  groups,  it  would  have 
no  resort  but  massacre.  But  within  the  recognized 
moral  field  there  is  a  good  degree  of  moral  uniform- 
ity. The  most  marked  A'ariations  concern,  not  the 
principles  of  social  morality,  but  the  things  which 
are  comi)atible  with  personal  morality.  And  here 
they  are  confined  especially  to  the  large  list  of 
natural  impulses,  whose  evil  lies  not  in  themselves 
but  in  their  excess.  Indeed,  making  due  allowance 
for  ignorance  and  embryonic  development,  we  may 
well  doubt  whether  savage  morality  is  not  quite 
equal  to  civilized  morality.  If  the  former  shows 
more  animalism,  the  latter  shows  more  diabolism. 
In  our  dealings  with  the  lower  races,  we  have  little 
to  boast  of  on  any  score ;  and  in  any  civilized  com- 
munity one  can  find,  under  hatches,  infamy  and 
bestiality  enough  to  satisfy  all  demands  in  that  line. 
Thirdly,  the  specific  contents  of  the  moral  ideal 
are  not  fixed,  but  the  direction  in  which  the  ideal 
lies  is  generally  discernible.  A  certain  amount  of 
experience  and  develoi:)ment  is  necessary  in  order  to 
give  this  ideal  any  richness  and  complexity  of  con- 
tents ;  but  we  find  that  when  we  f)ut  ourselves  in  the 
place  of  even  the  savage,  his  moral  judgments  are 
correct  from  his  standpoint.  We  have  in  ethics 
the  same  fact  as  in  intellect — a  potentially  infalli- 
ble standard,  with  manifold  errors  in  its  apprehen- 
sion and  application.  We  assume  a  common  rational 
nature,  yet  there  is  vast  diversity  in  intellectual 


158  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

beliefs.  But  as  this  diversity  and  contradiction  do 
not  shake  our  faith  in  the  oneness  and  community 
and  infallibility  of  reason,  so  the  similar  fact  in 
ethics  need  not  shake  our  faith  in  the  unity  and 
infallibility  of  the  moral  nature.  Again,  wliile  we 
are  perpetually  appealing  to  reason,  we  are  quite 
unable  to  specify  its  concrete  contents  with  any 
approach  to  completeness.  Only  through  long  ex- 
perience, patient  reflection,  and  much  labor  do  we 
gradually  penetrate  into  its  significance ;  and  only 
a  perfect  reason  could  give  an  exhaustive  definition 
of  reason.  It  is  equally  impossible  to  give  a  com- 
plete definition  of  the  moral  ideal ;  and  it  will  be 
until  the  ideal  itself  is  realized.  All  that  we  can  do 
is  to  work  toward  it,  and  thus  understand  it  better 
and  better. 

Janet  makes  a  good  suggestion  about  estimating 
moral  divergencies  among  different  peoples.  It  is 
that  we  should  first  criticise  the  accounts  themselves, 
and  next  that  we  shoiild  distingiiish  between  the 
moral  concej^tions  and  actual  practice.  Both  con- 
siderations are  important.  Travellers'  accounts  of 
foreign  peoples  are  always  to  be  criticised.  The 
exigencies  of  the  publisher,  or  of  vanity,  are  to  be 
duly  estimated.  The  outward  and  visible  life  of  a 
strange  people  is  rarely  understood.  Witness  the 
accounts  of  American  life  by  European  travellers, 
or  the  accounts  of  the  French  family  by  foreign 
lookers-on.  Still  more  difficult  is  it  rightly  to  es- 
timate the  moral  life  of  a  stranger  jDeople.  In  con- 
ventional codes  there  is  much  that  is  only  custom 
without  any  foundation  in  reason ;  and  the  uuiu- 


DEVELOPMENT   IN   MORALS  159 

structed  critic  is  sure  to  confound  the  lack  of  the 
custom  -with  a  lack  of  morality.  Here  again  we 
find  illustration  in  the  extraordinary  misconceptions 
of  moral  relations  among  even  civilized  peopk?  who 
only  live  across  a  boundary  line,  or  speak  another 
language.  Indeed,  even  the  rank  and  file  of  Chris- 
tians find  it  hard  cordially  to  admit  the  Christianity 
of  a  neighboring  sect  whose  customs  differ  much 
from  their  own.  It  is  not  surprising,  therefore, 
if  travellers  among  savages,  themselves  often  not 
the  most  exalted  characters  and  frequently  engaged 
in  the  most  wicked  schemes,  should  fail  to  get  a 
complete  insight  into  the  character  of  the  people. 
Besides,  in  no  country  are  the  persons  with  whom 
travellers  come  in  contact  to  be  taken  as  specimens 
of  the  moral  development  of  the  community.  To 
one  reflecting  upon  the  difficult  and  delicate  nature 
of  such  an  inquiry,  the  easy  faith  accorded  to  our 
travelling  ethnologists  can  only  remind  him  of  that 
primitive  credulity  v/hich  a  distinguished  philoso- 
pher declares  to  be  the  most  striking  feature  of  the 
human  mind. 

In  general  this  apjieal  to  savages  and  babies,  to 
find  what  is  natural  to  the  human  mind,  rests  on  a 
strange  delusion  as  to  the  meaning  of  natural.  In 
the  case  of  anything  which  is  under  a  law  of  devel- 
opment, we  can  find  its  true  nature,  not  by  going 
back  to  its  crude  beginnings,  but  by  studying  the 
finished  outcome.  The  law  of  the  whole,  as  revealed 
in  the  completed  manifestation,  is  the  true  nature 
of  the  thing.  Moreover,  the  question  is  psycholog- 
ical, rather  than  ethical ;  for,  however  the  inquiry 


160  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

might  turn  out,  our  present  human  duties  would 
remain  what  they  are. 

The  importance  of  the  second  point  mentioned, 
the  necessity  of  distinguishing  moral  insight  from 
actual  conduct,  is  self-evident.  Our  own  society 
would  make  a  sorry  show,  if  our  moral  insight  were 
measured  solely  from  what  we  do  and  i^ermit.  Even 
the  holiest  person  finds  his  life  falling  far  below  his 
ideal;  and  because  of  the  hardness  of  men's  hearts, 
the  most  advanced  societies  have  to  permit  a  great 
many  things  which  are  morally  objectionable,  but 
which  cannot  be  helped  until  men  themselves  are 
developed  into  something  better.  When  the  moral 
cannot  be  reached,  the  animal  must  be  put  up  with. 
This  being  the  case  in.  the  most  developed  commu- 
nities, it  would  be  quite  surprising  if  savages,  of  all 
men,  succeeded  in  realizing  their  highest  concep- 
tions, or  were  always  faithful  to  their  moral  ideal. 
In  the  next  place,  we  must  remember  that  the  ap- 
plication of  our  moral  principles  depends  on  our 
mental  conceptions,  and  that  in  a  double  way. 
First,  knowledge  of  reality  is  needed  in  order  to 
realize  our  principles  in  fitting  codes.  Doubtless, 
the  aim  of  physicians  from  the  beginning  has  been 
to  heal  and  prevent  disease ;  but  the  form  of  treat- 
ment must  vary  with  knowledge.  The  frightful 
dosers  of  a  century  ago  were  one  in  aim  with  the 
skilled  practitioners  of  to-day.  In  the  same  man- 
ner, the  growth  of  knovvdedge,  while  not  producing 
new  moral  principles,  cannot  fail  to  modify  the 
codes  in  which  those  principles  are  expressed. 

But,  secondly,  the  application  of  moral  principles 


DEVELOPMENT   IN   MORALS  ICl 

depends  on  our  mental  conceptions  in  another  way. 
Our  conceptions  of  the  worth  and  significance  of 
humanity,  and  our  general  theory  of  things  must 
have  a  jn-ofound  influence  upon  our  theory  of  con- 
duct. The  formal  principles  of  action  may  remain 
unchanged,  but  the  outcome  will  be  very  different. 
Thus,  a  low  conception  of  the  sacredness  of  person- 
ality or  of  the  meaning  of  human  life  will  result  in 
corresponding  action.  If  it  does  not  produce  in- 
humanity, it  wall  certainly  tend  to  indifference. 
We  may  not  inflict  needless  pain  upon  the  animals, 
but,  except  in  this  respect,  we  regard  them  as  having 
no  rights.  We  enslave  them,  or  exterminate  them, 
at  our  pleasure ;  and  any  effort  for  their  development 
we  may  make  rests  mainly  on  self-interest.  This 
action  on  our  part  rests  upon  an  implicit  assump- 
tion concerning  the  relative  insignificance  of  animal 
life.  Or,  rather,  it  should  be  said  that  only  such  an 
assumption  can  justify  our  action ;  in  practice  no 
justification  has  ever  been  thought  of  or  desired. 

Now  when  anything  similar  is  found  in  our  con- 
ception of  human  life,  somewhat  similar  action  ap- 
pears in  dealing  with  men.  Hence,  infanticide, 
slavery,  and  ethnic  barbarities  in  general.  The  di- 
vine Plato  defended  the  first  as  allowable  and  fitting 
under  certain  circumstances.  Aristotle  viewed  sla- 
very as  founded  in  the  nature  of  things ;  indeed,  it 
found  defenders  in  a  large  section  of  Christendom 
until  a  very  recent  period.  In  both  cases  the 
ground  of  defence  was  an  essential  inferiority  of 
nature  on  the  part  of  the  enslaved.  And,  on  the 
other    hand,    the    practices    were   condemned    on 


162  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

grounds  drawn  from  the  unity  of  human  nature, 
the  greatness  of  human  destiny,  and  a  universal 
divine  redemption.  But  where  these  ideas  are 
lacking,  it  is  not  surprising  that  the  corresponding 
conduct  should  be  lacking  too. 

Many  divergencies  of  conduct  also  are  to  be  his- 
torically understood.  Where  the  alternative  is  to 
kill  or  be  killed,  there  is  no  room  for  the  refinements. 
This  was  practically  often  the  case  with  the  early 
tribes  and  nations.  There  w^as  no  solution  but 
slaughter.  On  this  state,  slavery  was  an  advance, 
both  ethically  and  economically.  And  even  now, 
the  slaughter  of  prisoners  can  be  escaped  only  as  it 
is  jDOssible  to  guard  and  feed  them  without  great 
risk  to  the  conquerors.  The  supposed  humanity  of 
modern  warfare  depends  upon  modern  facilities  for 
transportation,  quite  as  much  as  upon  an  increased 
tenderness  of  the  human  heart.  In  any  case  it  is 
jDerfectly  idle  to  criticise  a  struggle  for  existence  by 
a  moral  standard  which  presupposes  the  possibility 
of  friendly  co-existence.  Such  criticism  is  as  irra- 
tional and  impertinent  as  a  parallel  series  of  reflec- 
tions on  the  un^sthetic  aspects  of  war,  while  the 
battle  is  still  on. 

It  should  not  surprise  us,  therefore,  to  find  vari- 
ous ethical  codes  among  men,  and  codes  in  all  stages 
of  development  from  the  simply  animal  up  to  the 
moral.  This  is  a  necessity  of  the  order  of  human 
unfolding,  and  of  the  interdependence  of  the  various 
factors  of  our  nature.  But  these  differences  are 
not  to  be  viewed  as  iDointing  to  a  difference  of  moral 
nature.     They  are  rather  to  be  understood  as  the 


DEVELOPMENT   IN   MORALS  163 

outcome  of  our  human  nature  when  limited  by- 
various  imperfections  and  misconceptions,  some- 
times specuhitive,  sometimes  religious,  and,  oftener 
than  either,  the  outcome  of  thoughtlessness  and  the 
mechanical  drifting  of  life.  And  these  variations 
are  found,  not  merely  among  different  tribes  or 
generations,  but  among  ourselves  in  the  ethics  of 
trade,  of  society,  of  the  bar,  of  college,  of  interna- 
tional intercourse,  etc.  In  each  of  these  fields 
simple  inspection  reveals  much  that  is  morally  im- 
perfect, but  which  is  likely  to  remain  until  a  far 
greater  mental  and  moral  seriousness  has  been  de- 
veloped than  obtains  at  present.  In  particular,  the 
ethics  of  the  bar  has  often  so  little  apparent  refer- 
ence to  justice  and  the  common  good,  that  a  very 
general  impression  exists  that  a  lawyer  is  simply 
a  conscienceless  mercenary  who,  for  hire,  will  fight 
under  any  flag  whatever,  not  even  excepting  the 
black  flag  of  the  pirate.  We  may  indeed  insist  that 
this  view  is  mistaken  and  unjust,  and  yet  we  have 
to  admit  that  no  iniquity,  or  injustice,  or  public 
enemy  ever  lacks  the  help  of  the  most  eminent 
legal  adviserS;  if  there  be  money  enough. 


CHAPTER  VI 

MORAL  EESPONSIBILITY,    MERIT   AND  DEMERIT 

Our  attention  hitherto  has  been  chiefly  confined 
to  the  moral  law  and  its  foundation.  We  have  now 
to  consider  some  judgments  which  ajDply  only  to 
the  moral  agent. 

Our  moral  activity  does  not  exhaust  itself  in 
determining  what  should  be  done.  In  addition,  it 
refers  the  deed  to  the  doer,  as  something  for  which 
he  is  responsible,  and  in  which  he  acquires  merit  or 
demerit.  Physical  agents  may  do  us  good,  as  the 
rain  and  sunshine,  but  we  do  not  praise  them. 
Other  physical  agents  may  do  us  harm,  as  a  storm 
or  flood,  but  we  do  not  blame  them.  They  are  not 
responsible,  and  we  attribute  no  merit  or  demerit. 
But  in  human  action  we  have  not  merely  necessary 
events  but  personal  deeds.  Instead  of  a  blind  be- 
neficence, we  have  productive  good  will;  and  in- 
stead of  mechanical  evil,  we  have  sin. 

In  all  of  this  the  notion  of  freedom  is  implicit. 
As  the  study  of  the  world  of  physical  changes  leads 
to  the  assumption  of  the  law  of  causation,  so  the 
study  of  the  world  of  moral  action  leads  to  the  as- 
sumption of  freedom,  as  the  law  and  condition  of 
the  same.     An  order  of  mechanical  beneficence  or 

164 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      1G5 

maleficence  is  indeed  possible  without  freedom,  but 
it  would  have  no  more  moral  quality  than  the  sun- 
shine and  storm. 

As  to  the  fact  of  freedom,  psychology  and  meta- 
physics must  decide.  Ethics  has  only  to  take  it 
as  implicit  in  the  moral  consciousness,  without  con- 
cerning itself  as  to  its  ultimate  foundation.  We 
record  our  conviction,  however,  that  the  metaphy- 
sics of  necessity,  while  more  plausible,  is  vastly 
more  difficult  than  the  metaphysics  of  freedom. 
The  plausibility  is  only  superficial.  Indeed,  it  may 
be  doubted  whether,  at  bottom,  the  doctrine  of 
necessity  is  not  empty  of  all  positive  content,  and  is 
anything  more  than  a  shadow  of  the  mind  itself,  or 
rather  of  the  formal  category  of  necessity  which  is 
always  made  universal  by  crude  reflection,  but  is 
always  limited  by  a  profounder  insight.  Of  course, 
if  we  make  the  necessity  all-embracing,  it  follows 
that  our  belief  in  freedom  is  also  necessary,  and 
hence  has  at  least  as  good  ground  as  the  opposite 
belief,  and  indeed  better,  considering  its  vastly 
greater  prevalence.  Such  is  the  plight  in  which 
the  doctrine  of  necessity  finds  itself  at  the  start.  It 
is  one  of  the  traditional  imbecilities  of  this  discus- 
sion, that  freedom  of  thought,  which  involves  all 
the  difficulties  of  the  general  problem,  is  practically 
admitted  by  every  one,  and  the  discussion  is  limited 
to  our  executive  activity. 

The  notions  of  responsibility,  merit  and  demerit 
have  given  the  utmost  embarrassment  to  all  fatalis- 
tic schemes  of  ethics.  How  to  reconcile  them  with 
their  fundamental  denial  of  freedom  has  been  an 


166  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

insoluble  juizzle.  Formally  to  deny  freedom  has 
been  too  great  an  affront  to  the  moral  consciousness 
of  mankind;  and  hence  the  denial  has  generally 
been  more  or  less  concealed  under  phrases  which 
seemed  to  retain  the  thing  denied.  There  has  also 
been  a  great  deal  of  half-hearted  denial.  Thus 
while  there  has  been  a  very  general  readiness  to 
give  up  the  idea  of  demerit  by  laying  it  all  on  cir- 
cumstances, there  has  been  an  intelligible  desire  to 
retain  the  idea  of  merit.  In  particular,  the  senti- 
mentalist who  is  very  ready  to  forgive  the  criminal 
for  crimes  against  some  one  else,  is  sure  to  reflect 
that  circumstances  are  to  blame  for  all  crime,  so 
that  there  is  no  real  demerit ;  but  he  is  sure  to  claim 
any  goodness  there  may  be  as  real  merit.  The  con- 
fusion is  further  increased  by  the  general  willingness 
to  hold  others  resj^onsible,  while  claiming  large 
allowance  for  ourselves.  Of  course,  such  half- 
heartedness  has  no  logical  standing. 

The  denial  of  freedom  must  in  logic  result  in 
denying  all  proper  responsibility  and  merit  or  de- 
merit. Our  life,  active,  cognitive,  and  emotional, 
must  be  looked  upon  as  a  resultant  of  antecedent 
forces  just  as  in  any  physical  system.  The  sin  of  the 
sinner  and  the  righteousness  of  the  saint,  the  de- 
light in  evil  and  its  condemnation,  must  alike  be 
looked  upon  as  the  necessary  resultant  of  the  sys- 
tem. Instead  of  a  law  of  freedom,  we  have  the 
parallelogram  of  forces;  and  life  becomes  a  great 
Punch  and  Judy  show  in  which  there  is  a  deal  of 
lively  chattering  and  the  aj)pearance  of  strenuous 
action,  but  nothing  more.     We  make  a  shift,  how- 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      107 

ever,  to  retain  the  words  at  least  in  the  following 
way : 

Everyone,  of  course,  is  and  does  what  he  must  be 
and  do ;  and  the  nature  and  deeds  of  every  one  are 
as  predetermined  as  the  position  and  orbit  of  a 
planet.  But  as  a  man  is  the  only  visible  source  of 
his  deeds,  and  as  the  deeds  could  be  changed  only 
by  changing  the  man,  we  may  call  the  man  respons- 
ible in  this  sense.  If  the  man  were  different,  his 
deeds  would  be  different.  These  deeds,  too,  have 
bearing  for  good  or  evil  upon  society ;  and  this  may 
be  called  their  merit  or  demerit.  Or  we  may  call 
this  bearing  their  moral  quality;  and  view  their 
merit  as  the  measure  of  their  worth  to  society,  and 
their  demerit  as  the  measure  of  their  damage.  We 
are  now  in  a  position  to  hold  men  responsible  for 
their  deeds,  that  is,  to  treat  them  in  accordance  with 
their  deeds.  In  the  same  way,  we  hold  wasps  and 
vipers  and  wild  beasts  responsible,  and  never  dream 
of  holding  them  innocent  because  they  must  act  ac- 
cording to  their  nature.  Their  nature  is  the  very 
thing  which  is  obnoxious.  Suggestions  of  this  kind 
have  often  been  made;  and  the  old  terminology 
being  freely  used,  the  fatalistic  scheme  seems  to  be 
fairly  well  reconciled  to  morals. 

But  it  is  plain  that  this,  too,  is  only  half-hearted. 
There  is  an  implicit  assumption  of  freedom,  at  least 
for  the  managers,  lurking  in  this  exposition.  "VVe 
are  justifying  ourselves,  holding  men  responsible, 
treating  them  in  accordance  with  their  character, 
or  at  least  in  accordance  with  their  nature,  etc.  But 
all  this  is  inconsistent.     If,  in  mechanics,  one  result- 


168  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

ant  should  speak  of  holding  another  resultant  re- 
sponsible, we  should  have  no  greater  absurdity  than 
we  have  here.  It  is  all  resultant.  It  is  all  a  clash 
of  forces — feelings,  thoughts,  opinions,  emotions — 
all  are  resultants.  To  this  we  must  come  in  logic ; 
and,  as  already  pointed  out,  the  belief  in  freedom 
becomes  as  necessary  as  the  belief  in  necessity,  and 
indeed,  any  one  belief  is  as  necessary  as  any  other, 
and  as  good  as  any  other  as  long  as  it  lasts.  Thus 
intelligence  itself  breaks  do^\Ti  in  hopeless  confusion 
and  scepticism.  To  stop  short  of  this  conclusion  is 
to  be  inconsistent.  To  reach  this  conclusion  is  to 
reduce  the  discussion  to  a  farce.  We  continue, 
therefore,  to  use  the  terms,  responsibility,  etc.,  in 
their  usual  sense. 

The  abstract  conditions  of  responsibility  are  easily 
stated;  so  easily,  indeed,  as  quite  to  obscure  the 
practical  difficulties  of  the  problem.  For  perfect 
resiDonsibility,  of  course,  there  must  be  perfect 
freedom  and  knowledge,  so  far  as  the  deed  in  ques- 
tion is  concerned.  When  the  former  condition  is 
not  met,  that  is,  when  the  agent  is  hmdered  or 
compelled,  whether  by  outward  circumstances  or 
by  inward  passion,  the  responsibility  varies  accord- 
ingly. Again,  if  the  agent  have  no  insight,  or  only 
an  imperfect  insight,  into  the  nature  of  his  deed,  he 
is  not  to  be  held  responsible  without  corresponding 
limitations. 

But  while  there  is  a  very  general  practical  agree- 
ment as  to  the  fact  of  resiDonsibility,  it  is  impossible 
to  find  any  fixed  measure  for  it ;  and  that  for  the 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      1G9 

reason,  that  the  factors  which  determine  responsi- 
bihty  admit  of  no  objective  standard.  Nothing  is 
plainer  from  experience  than  that  our  freedom  and 
knowledge  are  both  limited,  and  that  they  vary 
greatly  from  one  person  to  another.  When  the 
moral  nature  first  begins  to  manifest  itself,  it  finds 
a  body  of  impulses,  partly  good  and  partly  hurtful, 
already  in  possession.  In  some  cases  these  impulses 
are  well  ordered  and  harmonious ;  in  others  they  are 
anarchic  and  riotous.  Such  a  condition  of  things 
modifies  responsibility ;  to  what  extent  we  cannot 
tell.  No  one  can  be  trusted  to  judge  for  himself, 
because  of  the  misleading  influences  of  self-love ;  and 
no  one  can  judge  for  another,  because  the  data  are 
lacking.  If  there  were  beings  of  adequate  knowl- 
edge, of  balanced  nature,  and  of  complete  self-con- 
trol, the  problem  would  be  simple ;  but  in  the  case 
of  men  we  can  never  fix  the  exact  measure  of 
responsibility.  It  follows  that  we  have  to  insist 
upon  the  fact  of  responsibility  without  being  able 
to  establish  a  definite  measure.  The  determinations 
by  society  are  never  more  than  rough  approxima- 
tion ;  and  yet  until  a  nearer  approximation  can  be 
made,  they  must  be  allowed  to  stand.  We  have  to 
guard,  on  the  one  hand,  against  the  sophistry  which 
would  use  these  considerations  to  deny  all  responsi- 
bility, and,  on  the  other,  against  over-confidence 
in  our  moral  judgments  of  our  fellows.  It  is  also 
well  to  be  on  our  guard  against  the  fallacy  of  all  or 
none ;  for  of  old  it  has  been  recognized  that  there  is 
"fraud  in  generals."  We  need  not  hesitate  to  ad- 
mit that  inebriety  is  sometimes  a  disease  because  it 


170  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

is  often  a  sin ;  neither  should  our  conviction  that  it 
is  sometimes  a  disease  lead  us  to  affirm  that  it  is 
never  a  sin.  In  penology,  this  ethical  uncertainty 
leads  to  making  the  public  safety  the  aim  in  puni- 
tive action,  rather  than  the  vindication  of  the  moral 
law.  In  this  way  we  get  a  more  manageable  prob- 
lem; at  the  same  time,  the  necessity  of  determin- 
ing penalty  from  its  social  as  well  as  its  moral  bear- 
ings gives  the  law  in  many  cases  a  noticeable  parallax 
with  justice. 

There  is  even  greater  difficulty  in  fixing  the  meas- 
ure of  merit  and  demerit.  Of  course  neither  can 
be  predicated  of  an  automaton,  physical  or  spiritual. 
In  such  cases  we  have  only  notions  of  utility  or 
beauty,  hurtfulness  or  ugliness  in  play.  But  when 
we  come  to  fix  the  moral  merit  or  demerit  of  a  per- 
son, we  find  the  problem  exceedingly  difficult.  The 
constitution  of  the  individual,  his  surroundings  and 
motives  would  have  to  be  taken  into  account ;  and 
these  we  are  unable  accurately  to  determine.  In 
the  mixed  develojDment  of  human  life,  the  natural 
impulses  and  the  auxiliary  motives  arising  from 
non-moral  impulses  are  so  many,  and  our  ignorance 
of  the  real  impulses  is  so  great,  that  it  has  been 
questioned  whether  a  truly  moral  act  has  ever  been 
done.  This  paradox,  of  course,  can  never  gain  the 
practical  assent  of  mankind,  but  it  serves  to  show 
how  difficult  the  jDroblem  is. 

But  what  was  said  of  responsibility  may  be  re- 
peated here.  We  must  not  allow  considerations  of 
this  kind  to  confuse  us  into  thinking  that  there  are 
no  distinctions  in  merit  or  demerit.     We  know  very 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      171 

well  that  the  elegant  and  accomplished  defaulter  is 
worse  than  the  hungry  man  who  steals  a  loaf  of 
bread.  We  know  beyond  question  that  the  scien- 
tific poisoner  is  worse  than  the  ignorant  and  frantic 
mother  who  to  escape  shame  kills  her  child.  We 
would  never  consent  that  murder  should  be  pun- 
ished less  severely  than  petty  larceny.  However 
unclear  we  may  be  about  the  absolute  scale  of  merit 
and  demerit,  we  are  fairly  sure  of  the  relative  one. 

The  question  of  merit  has  important  bearings  in 
two  fields,  theology  and  penology.  It  seems  well, 
therefore,  to  consider  it  somewhat  in  detail. 

And  first  of  all,  the  meaning  of  merit  and  demerit 
is  far  from  clear.  Moral  approval  and  disaj^proval 
do  not  exhaust  the  meaning,  while  reward  and 
punishment  seem  somewhat  in  excess.  If  we  define 
merit  as  the  desert  of  reward,  we  run  a  risk  of  tak- 
ing reward  in  so  external  and  material  a  sense  as 
to  do  violence  to  the  ethical  conception,  by  making 
virtue  a  matter  of  hire  and  salary  again.  Similar 
difficulties  emerge  in  defining  demerit.  Possibly  we 
shall  do  as  well  as  the  case  admits  of,  by  defining 
merit  as  the  desert  of  moral  approval  and  the  right 
to  be  treated  accordingly;  while  demerit  is  the 
desert  of  moral  disapproval  and  its  appropriate 
treatment.  If  it  be  said  that  this  is  only  a  longer 
way  of  saying  that  merit  is  desert  of  reward,  and 
demerit  is  desert  of  punishment,  there  is  no  objec- 
tion, provided  only  that  reward  and  punishment  are 
not  taken  in  a  coarse,  material,  and  extraneous  sense. 

But  this  is  so  easily  done,  that  we  must  consider 


172  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

the  matter  more  at  length.  Otherwise  the  famihar 
rhetoric  about  virtue  being  its  own  reward  and  vice 
its  own  punishment  will  be  unloaded  upon  us,  to  our 
no  small  weariness  and  discomfort.  And,  first,  we 
must  distinguish  merit  in  the  field  of  self-regard- 
ing action  from  merit  in  the  field  of  social  action. 
What,  then,  do  we  mean  by  merit  and  demerit  in 
the  field  of  self -regarding  action? 

In  this  field,  as  everywhere,  formal  virtue  resides 
in  the  good  will ;  but  such  virtue  for  its  own  sake 
is  a  pure  myth.  The  good  will  presupposes  natural 
goods  to  be  sought  or  natural  evils  to  be  shunned ; 
and  without  them  the  good  will  becomes  a  matter 
of  barren  and  formless  intentions  w^hich,  after  all, 
intend  nothing.  But  these  goods  may  be  chosen 
because  of  their  intrinsic  value,  or  because  of  certain 
extraneous  and  accidental  advantages.  Thus  we 
may  seek  knowledge  for  itself,  or  for  the  social  or 
financial  advantages  it  may  bring  us.  Now  the 
virtuous  choice  is  not  one  in  which  there  is  no 
reference  to  ends,  but  one  in  which  we  choose  the 
higher  goods  of  life,  and  the  higher  life  itself,  be- 
cause of  their  essential  and  intrinsic  w^orth,  and  not 
because  of  any  extrinsic  attendants.  And  the  choice 
which  ethics  rejects  is  not  one  which  looks  to 
values,  but  one  which  seeks  to  serve  the  higher  in 
the  interest  of  lower  aims ;  as  when  one  makes  the 
motions  of  religion  for  the  sake  of  social  standing. 
From  such  extrinsic  reward  we  draw  back  as  from 
a  bribe.  It  is  always  non-moral  and  may  be  pro- 
foundly immoral. 

But    the    virtuous   choice,   on  the  other   hand, 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      173 

necessarily  presupposes  that  the  good  in  question  is 
attainable.  A  duty  to  aim  at  the  impossible  would 
be  absurd.  The  right  and  fitness  of  the  good  will 
to  have  the  good  at  which  it  aims  constitute  its 
merit ;  and  the  attainment  of  that  good  is  its  proper 
reward.  For  a  mind  which  hungers  and  thirsts 
after  knowledge,  knowledge  is  its  desert  and  knowl- 
edge is  its  only  true  reward.  So  for  a  mind  which 
hungers  and  thirsts  after  righteousness,  righteous- 
ness becomes  its  desert  and  its  reward.  But  this 
reward  is  not  something  external  and  adventitious ; 
it  is  bound  up  in  the  conception  of  virtue  itself. 
And  it  is  fitting  that  all  things  should  help  the 
good  will  on  its  way.  The  moral  government  of 
the  universe  means  just  this,  among  other  things, 
that  all  things  are  working  together  to  secure  for 
the  good  will  the  perfect  life  it  seeks.  In  this 
sense,  then,  goodness  is  its  own  reward;  and  all 
that  the  power  not  ourselves  can  add  is  to  secure  to 
goodness  the  conditions  of  its  realization. 

And  when,  on  the  other  hand,  in  this  same  field 
of  self-regarding  activity,  one  refuses  to  serve  the 
highest  and  gives  himself  over  to  low  and  unworthy 
living,  then  he  misses  his  true  good,  comes  into 
conflict  with  the  laws  of  his  own  being,  and  falls 
into  suffering  and  self-condemnation  and  into  the 
condemnation  of  all  moral  persons.  This  is  his 
desert  and  reward.  A  system  in  which  conduct 
had  no  consequences  would  be  absurd.  A  system 
in  which  all  conduct  had  the  same  consequences 
would  be  immoral,  if  it  were  possible.  Rash, 
reckless,  lawless  conduct  must  speedily  clash  with 


174  PRINCIPLES    OF   ETHICS 

the  conditions  of   existence.     Thus  it   has  its   re- 
ward. 

When  we  come  to  the  field  of  social  action,  the 
matter  is  still  clearer.  Here  the  good  Vvill  is  the 
benevolent  will.  Renouncing  selfishness,  it  aims  at 
the  common  good.  As  between  the  interests  of  self 
and  those  of  others,  it  aims  to  be  impartial.  It 
will  not  build  up  self  at  another's  cost.  It  will  not 
get  ahead  by  pulling  others  back,  nor  climb  by  get- 
ting others  down.  Now  such  a  will  merits  the  ap- 
proval and  esteem  of  all  moral  persons.  It  aims  at 
the  common  good,  and  it  deserves  to  share  therein. 
It  loses  life  in  the  common  service,  and  is  enlarged 
and  upbuilt  thereby.  This  universal  approval  and 
affection,  and  this  gaining  of  the  highest  life  of  self 
by  unselfish  living,  are  the  good  will's  desert  and 
reward. 

And,  on  the  other  hand,  the  evil  will  which  wills 
evil  deserves  that  its  plans  should  be  thrown  back 
upon  itself,  that  it  should  be  thwarted  by  the  uni- 
verse, and  that  its  sphere  of  activity  should  be  re- 
stricted to  itself.  Its  evil  aims  ought  not  to  succeed ; 
its  powers  misused  ought  to  be  fettered  or  cancelled. 
It  does  not  will  the  common  good,  and  it  may  not 
share  therein.  It  does  not  will  the  good;  and  it 
does  not  get  it.  It  wills  evil  for  others,  and  its  evil 
returns  upon  itself.  The  displacence  and  condem- 
nation of  all  moral  persons  are  inevitable ;  and  their 
manifestation  is  equally  necessary.  This  failure 
and  misery  and  outcast  condition  of  the  evil  will  is 
its  desert  and  reward. 

These  considerations  apply  to  merit  and  demerit 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      175 

in  tlieir  purely  ethical  significance.  They  involve 
no  adventitious  consequences  Avhich  might  as  well 
be  omitted  as  not ;  but  are  necessary  implications  of 
any  rational  moral  system.  In  our  concrete  human 
practice,  these  ideas  are  embodied  in  somewhat  ar- 
bitrary forms.  Particularly,  our  notions  of  reward 
and  punishment  are  often  of  a  coarse,  extraneous 
character  which  nevertheless  finds  some  justifica- 
tion in  the  embryonic  character  of  human  beings. 
In  practice  we  are  not  likely  ever  to  escape  a  certain 
measure  of  arbitrariness  in  this  field.  The  practical 
necessities  of  life  will  compel  the  adoption  of  meas- 
ures which  cannot  be  deduced  from  the  pure  ethical 
conception.  At  the  same  time,  they  will  have 
sufficient  basis  in  the  moral  nature  to  ward  off  the 
charge  that  they  are  purely  arbitrary.  Criminal 
law  has  always  been,  and  is  likely  to  remain,  in  this 
condition.  The  form  of  manifestation  of  moral 
displacence  admits  of  no  apriori  deduction. 

But  now  the  contention  comes  from  the  theologi- 
cal side,  that  the  finite  can  have  no  merit  whatever, 
being  in  itself  nothing  before  God,  In  so  far  as 
this  rests  upon  our  finiteness,  if  it  is  worth  anything, 
it  denies  the  possibility  of  our  having  any  moral 
character,  good  or  bad.  But  more  commonly  it 
rests  upon  a  theological  doctrine  concerning  the 
natural  man,  who  is  supposed  to  be  altogether  lost 
in  depravity  and  wickedness,  abounding  in  demerit 
but  absolutely  void  of  all  merit. 

So  far  as  this  doctrine  has  any  foundation  of  fact, 
it  rests  upon  confounding  material  and  formal  right- 


176  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

ness.  Apart  from  our  will,  we  inherit  much,  and 
have  various  tendencies,  many  of  which  are  opposed 
to  the  ideal  order  of  our  nature.  As  such  they 
represent  an  abnormal  element;  and,  tried  by  an 
ideal  standard,  we  are  not  only  incomplete,  as  must 
be  the  case  with  any  being  not  ready-made  from 
the  start,  but  we  are  also  in  a  pathological  condition. 
This,  however,  is  not  a  state  of  demerit,  but  one  of 
disease;  and  is  as  little  an  object  of  wrath  as  a 
club-foot  or  a  curved  spine.  This  fact  indeed  can- 
not remove  anxiety  on  our  part ;  for  if  the  ideal  law 
is  also  the  law  of  our  well-being,  to  be  out  of  accord 
with  it  means  one  knows  not  what  of  disaster,  and 
we  cannot  be  safe  until  the  abnormal  or  pathological 
condition  is  removed.  At  the  same  time,  it  can 
never  be  made  a  subject  of  moral  condemnation, 
except  through  confusion  of  the  moral  judgment. 

Viewed  from  the  standpoint  of  material  rightness, 
men  are  imperfect,  falling  far  below  the  ideal,  but 
may  they  not  be  perfect  from  the  standpoint  of  for- 
mal rightness?  And  since  the  good  will  makes  all 
good,  and  the  evil  will  makes  all  evil,  may  we  not 
even  conclude  that  there  are  no  degrees,  whether  in 
good  or  evil?  This  is  a  conclusion  that  has  been 
known  in  ethics  since  the  time  of  the  Stoics.  It 
rests  upon  mistaking  an  abstract  moral  agent  for 
the  actual  man.  It  is  conceivable  that  there  should 
be  beings  of  balanced  passions  and  perfect  self-con- 
trol, of  perfect  insight  also  into  the  principles  and 
tendencies  of  their  action.  Such  beings  might  have 
the  principle  of  action  in  such  clear  consciousness 
that  all  of  their  activities  should  be  purposely  but 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      177 

an  illustration  of  the  same.  In  that  case  there 
would  be  no  difference  of  moral  quality  in  the 
several  actions.  The  life  as  a  whole  would  take  its 
character  from  its  governing  principle,  and  would 
be  good  or  bad  accordingly.  There  are  no  degrees 
in  an  insult  or  affront.  In  such  cases  we  consider 
not  the  greatness  or  smallness  of  the  deed,  but  the 
principle  it  expresses.  A  small  deed  may  show  forth 
a  great  love  or  a  profound  hate.  In  such  beings 
there  would  also  be  no  mixture  of  good  and  evil, 
but  either  and  only  one  or  the  other. 

But  it  is  manifest  that  men  are  not  such  beings. 
We  begin  on  the  plane  of  nature,  and  only  gradually 
come  to  self-possession.  We  become  slowly  con- 
scious of  our  own  aims,  and  we  grow  slowly  into 
self-control.  Our  will  is  feeble ;  our  loyalty  is  im- 
perfect and  wavering.  Our  life,  on  the  whole, 
shows  a  tendency,  and  must  be  judged  thereby;  but 
there  is  no  perfect  formal  goodness  among  men,  and 
also  no  perfect  formal  evil.  Progress  in  goodness 
is  the  utmost  we  can  expect;  and  such  progress 
constitutes  what  we  mean  by  a  virtuous  life.  The 
concrete  evil  life,  as  we  find  it  in  experience,  has 
for  its  distinguishing  mark  that  its  movement  is 
away  from  the  highest.  In  both  cases,  character 
is  germinal  rather  than  complete.  The  root  of  the 
matter  may  exist  without  attaining  in  either  case 
to  perfect,  or  even  consistent,  manifestation.  The 
tendency,  indeed,  must  be  toward  completed  char- 
acter which  gives  quality  to  all  the  details  of  life, 
but  we  seldom,  if  ever,  find  such  consolidation  in 
experience. 


■'^- 


178  PKINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

The  same  mistake  of  confounding  the  abstract 
man  of  theory  with  the  actual  man  of  life  has  led 
to  a  considerable  display  of  rhetorical  virtue.  That 
one  should  be  moved  to  action  by  anything  but  the 
purest  love  of  goodness,  say  by  fear  of  punishment, 
or  love  of  approval,  or  hope  of  reward,  has  been  a 
conception  so  odious  that  it  could  not  be  adequately 
perhorresced.  Both  prose  and  poetry  have  been  ex- 
hausted in  the  effort  to  rise  to  the  occasion.  But 
such  rantings  are  terribly  unedifying ;  and  besides 
it  is  hard  to  free  them  from  a  certain  smack  of 
polemical  hypocrisy.  It  is  of  course  true  that  the 
moral  ideal  is  not  reached  until  the  pure  love  of  good 
becomes  the  sufficient  motive  of  action.  It  is  also 
true  that  if  the  moral  life  had  nothing  to  do  with 
the  natural  life,  and  if  the  moral  life  were  in  con- 
scious possession  of  its  own  aims  and  principles  from 
the  start,  we  should  have  to  declare  a  moral  life 
worthless  in  which  there  should  be  any  admixture 
of  lower  motives,  or  at  least  worthless  in  proportion 
to  the  measure  of  the  lower  motives.  Finally,  we 
may  admit  that  if  the  moral  movement  of  the  uni- 
verse had  for  its  aim  the  distribution  of  adventitious 
prizes  rather  than  the  develoj^ment  and  establish- 
ment of  moralized  life  itself,  we  might  be  some- 
what puzzled  in  our  distribution.  But  the  inappli- 
cability of  all  this  to  the  human  problem  is  evident. 
First,  the  moral  life  is  only  the  ideal  form  of  the 
natural.  Secondly,  the  moral  life  is  slowly  de- 
velojDed  out  of  the  natural.  Thirdly,  the  goal  of 
the  development  is  not  extraneous  reward  but  ideal 
life  itself.     In  such  a  life  as  this,   the  important 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      179 

question  is  not,  What  docs  the  person  merit  as 
measured  by  sundry  abstract  ideas? — but  rather, 
What  is  he  growing  to  be,  and  what  significance  is 
he  acquiring  in  the  moral  world?  The  much-used 
notion  of  probation  in  its  obvious  sense  is  distinctly 
inapplicable  to  the  circumstances  of  human  life. 
We  must  replace  it  by  the  notion  of  a  progressive 
education  and  development  whose  goal  shall  be  per- 
fect life.  This  retains  all  that  is  true  in  the  idea  of 
probation,  and  escapes  its  artificiality. 

But,  it  may  further  be  asked,  of  what  value  is 
an  obedience  which  is  not  a  properly  moral  obedience? 
Much  every  way,  but  especially  in  this,  that  it  may 
lay  a  foundation  upon  which  a  moral  obedience  may 
be  built.  The  laws  of  our  well-being  and  the  cor- 
responding forms  of  conduct  are  independent  of  our 
volition.  Hence,  obedience  under  tutelage  and  from 
non-moral  motives  may  yet  lead  to  conduct  in  ac- 
cordance with  our  true  good.  As  such,  though  not 
the  highest,  it  is  good  as  far  as  it  goes ;  and  it  may 
be  the  highest  possible  to  the  person  in  his  actual 
stage  of  development.  This  use  of  lower  motives 
while  the  susceptibility  for  the  higher  is  being  de- 
veloped, is  a  fundamental  fact  in  human  life.  The 
mass  of  human  beings  are  never  able  to  dispense 
with  them.  To  ask  how  such  conduct  can  have  any 
value,  is  like  asking  how  it  can  be  of  use  to  a  child 
to  learn  his  lessons  for  the  sake  of  anything  but  the 
pure  love  of  knowledge.  The  mastered  lesson,  the 
exercise  of  self-control,  the  putting  forth  of  power 
along  right  lines  are  worth  something  in  both  cases, 
and   may  lead   to  something    higher.     Materially 


180  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

right  action  is  valuable  and  desirable,  whatever  the 
motive.  The  art  of  education  and  legislation  con- 
sists very  largely  in  the  direction  of  non-moral 
motives  into  right  forms  of  action  in  advance  of 
moral  development. 

Many  of  the  contradictions  which  abound  in  the 
teachings  concerning  merit  arise  from  confounding 
tlic  formal  and  ideal  points  of  view.  Of  course  we 
all  fall  below  the  ideal;  and  the  highest  feel  this 
most.  If,  then,  we  were  describing  ourselves  from 
this  point  of  view,  we  should  say  many  things  con- 
cerning our  unworthiness  and  imj)erfection.  We 
might  even  speak  of  ourselves  as  miserable  sinners 
and  declare  that  we  are  unworthy  so  much  as  to 
lift  up  our  eyes  unto  heaven.  And  this  would  be 
entirely  compatible  with  a  strong  assertion  of  our 
integrity  from  the  formal  side,  or  as  judged  by  the 
standard  which  we  apply  to  one  another,  A  similar 
contradiction  meets  us  in  the  estimate  of  our  knowl- 
edge. One  impressed  and  oppressed  by  the  weight 
of  the  mystery  which  touches  our  life  at  every  point 
and  on  every  side,  and  also  by  the  vastness  of  the 
unknown  in  comparison  with  our  scanty  knowledge, 
might  well  declaim  on  the  vanity  and  nothingness 
of  human  knowledge.  But  this  would  be  quite 
compatible  with  faith  in  our  knowledge  within 
its  own  limits,  and  with  faith  in  its  exceeding 
value. 

Practically,  the  question  of  demerit  is  more  im- 
portant than  that  of  merit ;  for  in  the  latter  case 
we  generally  have  not  to  go  beyond  moral  aj^proval, 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      181 

while  in  the  former  case  we  pass  beyond  disapproval 
and  inflict  penalty,  as  in  criminal  law.  We  limit 
our  further  study,  therefore,  to  the  question  of  de- 
merit. 

This  problem  admits  of  easy  theoretical  state- 
ment, but  the  practical  solution  is  exceedingly 
difficult.  Thus  we  can  say  that  the  demerit  of 
action  varies  with  the  amount  of  knowledge,  the 
strength  and  balance  of  our  natural  propensities,  the 
measure  of  self-control,  etc.  But  we  have  no 
means  of  measuring  these  with  any  approach  to 
certainty.  The  only  way  of  judging  the  inner  life 
of  another  is  to  assimilate  it  to  our  own ;  but  when 
we  see  another  acting  in  ways  shocking  and  detest- 
able to  ourselves,  we  are  led  to  suspect  that  this 
assumed  identity  is  not  exact.  Hence,  we  can  only 
assume  a  rough  identity  as  the  condition  of  all 
mutual  understanding,  and  make  such  allowance 
for  differences  as  the  facts  seem  to  call  for.  In 
general  when  the  differences  are  such  as,  in  our 
judgment,  to  cancel  self-control,  then  the  moral 
problem  of  desert  is  replaced  by  a  problem  of 
disease. 

In  such  practical  uncertainty,  it  would  be  a  relief 
if  we  could  measure  demerit  by  consequences.  This 
would  be  possible  if  we  mean  foreseen  and  intended 
consequences ;  but  if  we  take  in  all  consequences  it 
would  confound  error  and  crime,  a  confusion  which 
the  moral  consciousness  has  alwa3's  resisted. 

In  truth,  a  sharp  distinction  between  the  formal 
and  material  has  never  been  allowed  in  this  field. 
Materially,  many  acts  are  wrong  in  themselves,  as 


182  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

being  discordant  with  the  nature  of  things.  Mate- 
rially, also,  many  acts  in  personal  relations  are  so 
foreign,  not  only  to  external  nature  but  also  to  any 
normal  human  nature,  that  we  regard  them  as 
odious  in  themselves.  To  maintain  a  claim  of 
formal  rightness  in  connection  with  them  would  be 
possible  only  on  the  ground  of  insanity,  and  that 
would  leave  no  moral  problem  in  the  case.  Hence, 
assuming  a  fundamental  identity  of  human  nature, 
the  race  has  always  assumed  that  the  demerit  of  a 
deed  varies  with  the  amount  of  its  departure  from 
the  recognized  standard  of  duty  and  humanity. 
Here  the  distinction  of  formal  and  material  can  be 
maintained  only  at  the  expense  of  cancelling  the 
problem  altogether. 

Two  general  facts,  which  are  at  bottom  one,  de- 
serve mention  as  especially  affecting  our  judgment 
of  demerit.  The  first  is  the  fact  that  we  are  not 
abstract  moral  beings  existing  in  self -chosen  ethical 
relations,  but  are  parents  and  children,  husbands 
and  wives,  neighbors  and  citizens.  Out  of  these 
relations  a  great  body  of  duties  naturally  spring. 
These  relations  take  the  place  of  the  abstract  ethical 
relation  to  such  an  extent,  that  the  latter  seldom 
comes  into  view.  To  recognize  the  resulting  duties 
carries  with  it  little  sense  of  merit ;  but  to  fail  to 
recognize  them  is  looked  upon  as  base  and  in- 
famous. 

The  second  fact  has  already  been  mentioned  in  a 
previous  chapter.  This  is  that  the  sense  of  obliga- 
tion is  very  largely  dependent  on  sympathy,  and  that 
sympathy  depends  on  proximity  and  the  ability  to 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      183 

put  ourselves  in  another's  place.  Thus  the  civilized 
world  has  largely  agreed  upon  the  wrong  of  slavery ; 
but  this  conviction  remained  mostly  dormant  until 
the  imagination  was  powerfully  impressed  with  the 
horrors  of  slavery.  Owing  to  the  social  nature  of 
man,  any  common  element  whatever  strengthens 
the  sense  of  obligation.  A  common  language,  a 
common  country,  a  common  faith,  a  common  occu- 
pation, even  a  common  amusement,  are  felt  to  form 
a  tie  which  must  not  groundlessly  be  ignored.  One 
meets  a  countryman  in  a  foreign  land;  and  the 
common  country  and  language  form  a  sort  of  bond. 
Or  one  meets  an  ecclesiastical  clansman  and  the 
effect  is  similar.  Even  a  bicycler  meeting  a  brother 
rider  feels  a  claim  arising  from  the  common  sjjort. 
Of  course  this  claim  is  not  equally  strong  in  all  the 
cases  mentioned,  nor  is  it  independent  of  other  cir- 
cumstances; but,  other  things  being  equal,  some 
measure  of  claim  is  sure  to  be  felt.  The  reason  is 
found  in  the  fact  that  the  common  element  consti- 
'tutes  a  bond  of  sympathy ;  and  hence,  he  who  fails 
to  recognize  it  has  to  break  through  a  mass  of  feel- 
ings which  do  not  exist  in  other  cases.  If  they 
are  lacking,  the  fact  is  discreditable.  If  they  are 
ignored,  the  fact  is  still  more  discreditable. 

This  fact  underlies  the  first  fact  mentioned.  It 
also  explains  the  horror  we  feel  at  wrongs  done  by 
members  of  the  same  family  to  one  another.  The 
simple  physical  relation,  apart  from  the  community 
of  life,  service,  and  affection,  is  nothing.  But,  in 
normal  circumstances,  this  family  life  must  express 
Itself  in  mutual  affection  and  service ;  and  a  strong 


184  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

emotional  life  gathers  around  it.  To  lack  this  life 
is  to  be  sadly  abnormal ;  to  ignore  it  in  action  is 
counted  among  the  deepest  basenesses  and  infamies 
to  which  human  beings  can  descend. 

An  antithetical  outcome  of  this  general  fact  is 
found  in  our  comparative  indifference  to  wrongs 
done  to  those  with  whom  we  stand  in  no  relations  of 
sympathy.  By  no  effort  can  w^e  feel '  the  same 
horror  at  a  wrong  done  to  a  Patagonian  or  Hotten- 
tot as  at  one  done  to  our  neighbor  or  countryman. 
Nor  in  general  do  we  regard  the  former  deed  as 
having  equal  demerit  with  the  latter.  Of  course, 
ethics  is  no  respecter  of  persons,  and  maintains  the 
rights  of  the  Bushman  equally  with  those  of  the 
Caucasian;  but  in  concrete  life  we  have  to  take 
account  of  all  the  psychological  limitations  of  the 
moral  person.  And  the  fact  is  that,  owing  to  these 
limitations,  a  crime  against  a  neighbor  would  show 
a  more  determined  evil  will  than  the  same  crime 
against  a  stranger  and  foreigner.  In  the  former 
case  the  evil  will  would  have  to  break  through  a 
mass  of  deterrent  sympathies  which  would  not  exist 
in  the  latter.  Even  the  circumstances  of  the  same 
crime  among  ourselves  affect  our  judgment  of  de- 
merit, according  as  they  reveal  a  greater  or  less 
atrocity  or  brutality.  A  murder,  say  with  an  axe, 
would  impress  us  as  more  fiendish  than  one  v/ith 
a  rifle  at  long  range. 

But  we  cannot  afford  to  fix  our  attention  exclu- 
siv^ely  on  these  points.  Sympathy  does  not  consti- 
tute moral  relations.  These  exist  in  their  own 
right,  whatever  our  sympathies ;  and  to  take  coun- 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      185 

sel  of  our  sympathies  instead  of  our  reason  is  often 
to  betray  righteousness.  Hence,  ethics  demands 
that  we  enlarge  the  sympathy  to  fit  the  moral  rela- 
tion, instead  of  restricting  the  relation  to  the  sympa- 
thy. It  is  a  very  decided  mark  of  moral  progress 
when  one  can  recognize  another's  riglits  without 
any  reference  to  one's  own  likes  and  dislikes;  for 
even  the  average  good  man  has  rare  success  in  es- 
caping any  sense  of  obligation  to  those  against 
whom  he  is  prejudiced.  If  a  perfectly  just  debt  is 
not  legally  secured,  it  is  surprising  how  difficult  it 
often  is  to  ask  for  payment  in  a  way  which  will  not 
prove  offensive  to  the  debtor. 

Society  also  is  obliged  to  look  to  the  objective 
facts  and  consequences  as  w^ell  as  to  the  mental  state 
of  the  agent.  There  is  an  objective,  as  well  as  a 
subjective  demerit ;  and  we  cannot  afford  to  let  a 
lack  of  subjective  appreciation  pass  for  justification. 
Whatever  the  sul)jective  state,  train-wreckers  and 
showers  of  false  beacons  must  be  treated  as  mur- 
derers. In  this  way  the  appropriate  mental  state 
may  be  helped  to  development.  In  general,  our 
judgments  of  demerit  are  in  constant  need  of  re- 
vision. With  the  growth  of  knowledge  and  of  the 
moral  nature,  the  demerit  of  evil  deeds  varies. 
Things  once  deemed  permissible  may  become  base 
crimes.  The  most  dangerous  enemies  of  society 
are  no  longer  found  in  the  so-called  dangerous 
classes;  and  there  is  a  growing  necessity  to  empha- 
size the  fact  by  a  readjustment  of  penalties. 

That  action  varies  in  demerit,  according  as  it 
springs  from  an  evil  or  from  a  weak  will,  is  obvious. 


186  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

From  all  of  these  considerations,  it  is  plain  how 
complex  the  question  of  merit  and  demerit  is.  The 
actual  human  being  is  often  embryonic  in  his 
morality,  and  always  immature.  His  will  is  some- 
times wicked,  and  still  oftener  weak.  His  motives 
are  partly  moral,  hut  more  frequently  sub-moral 
rather  than  immoral,  though  the  latter  are  by  no 
means  lacking.  The  crimes  of  sense  and  weakness 
become  the  crimes  of  malice  and  wickedness.  Such 
a  state  of  things  is  prolific  of  one-sided  notions. 
Accordingly,  we  have  all  extremes.  On  the  one 
hand,  we  have  a  theological  and  rigoristic  school 
denying  all  merit  to  humanity  and  reducing  every- 
thing to  sin.  On  the  other  hand,  is  another  school 
denying  all  demerit,  and  sinking  at  times  into  an 
odious  and  loathsome  criminal  worship.  With 
much  contempt  of  these  extremes,  we  have  a  third 
school  which  ignores  the  metaphysics  of  responsi- 
bility and  treats  the  problem  ''positively  and  objec- 
tively "  on  the  basis  of  physiology,  sociology,  etc., 
and  in  the  interests  of  the  public  safety.  The 
question  of  guilt  or  innocence  is  as  irrelevant  as  the 
question  concerning  the  guilt  or  innocence  of  wasps 
and  hornets.  An  ancient  holder  of  this  view  set 
forth  the  opinion  that  it  is  expedient  that  one  man 
should  die  for  the  people. 

Against  this  failure  of  the  moral  nature  we  have 
to  guard  ourselves.  In  every  case  which  is  not 
manifestly  pathological,  we  shall  always  attribute 
demerit  to  wrong- doing.  In  attempting  to  fix  its 
measure,  we  shall  have  to  content  ourselves  with 
aj^proximations ;  and  these  may  often  involve  rela- 


MORAL  RESPONSIBILITY,  MERIT  AND  DEMERIT      187 

tive  injustice,  but  without  them  human  existence 
would  ho  impossil)le.  The  style  of  conscience  which 
does  nothing  for  fear  of  doing  wrong  is  not  adapted 
to  terrestrial  conditions. 

The  matter  of  punishment  as  we  meet  with  it  in 
criminal  law  is  commonly  complicated  with  extra- 
ethical  questions,  and  thus  fails  to  he  viewed  in  a 
purely  ethical  light.  That  the  evil  will,  if  there 
be  such  a  thing,  deserves  to  come  to  grief  would  be 
admitted  by  all.  A  world  in  which  no  difference  is 
made  between  the  good  will  and  the  evil  will  would 
be  a  moral  horror.  But  often  there  is  a  tacit  as- 
sumption that  there  is  no  evil  will  in  the  case,  but 
only  a  weak  and  imperfect  one.  Sometimes,  too, 
while  we  affirm  the  reality  of  the  evil  will,  we  may 
doubt  whether  the  right  to  punish  belongs  to  us. 
Add  to  this  the  uncertainty  of  our  judgments  of 
demerit,  and  we  have  all  the  conditions  for  the 
confusion,  often  sentimental  and  sometimes  im- 
moral, which  reigns  in  this  field. 


CHAPTER    VII 

ETHICS   AND    RELIGION 

In  real  life  ethics  is  commonly  allied  with  religion. 
The  voice  of  conscience  is  said  to  be  the  voice  of 
God,  and  moral  law  is  the  expression  of  his  will. 
We  have  now  to  inquire  whether  this  alliance  is  a 
necessary  or  only  a  fictitious  one.  On  the  one 
hand,  the  claim  is  made  that  ethics  is  a  self-sufficient 
science;  and  on  the  other,  it  is  urged  that  ethics 
depends  on  something  beyond  itself.  From  the 
time  of  Lucretius,  and  even  earlier,  we  have  heard 
what  degradation  and  paralysis  of  the  moral  nature 
result  from  religion;  and  the  opposite  contention 
has  never  been  lacking,  that  without  religion 
morals  would  disappear  from  the  earth.  When  the 
debate  happens  to  be  between  religious  and  irre- 
ligious i^artisans,  extravagance  commonly  knov\'s 
no  limit. 

To  one  who  reflects  on  the  interdependence  of  the 
several  jDhases  of  our  mental  life,  the  question  it- 
self, as  commonly  j^ut,  can  seem  little  less  than  ab- 
surd. It  is  the  one  human  mind  which  founds  ethi- 
cal systems  and  religious  systems.  And  what  the 
mind  may  do  in  the  moral  field  will  certainly  have 
significance  for  its  w^ork  in  the  religious  field.  Con- 
versely,  what  the  mind  may  do  in  the  religious 

l«8 


ETHICS   AND   RELIGION  189 

field  cannot  fail  to  influence  its  ethical  code.  Wher- 
ever there  is  any  degree  of  development,  the  moral 
nature  is  a  leading  factor  in  determining  religious 
conceptions;  and  these,  on  the  other  hand,  react 
powerfully  upon  the  moral  nature.  In  actual  life, 
ethics  and  religion  strongly  influence  each  other; 
and  man  is  the  subject  and  source  of  both.  The 
historical  fact,  that  degrading  religious  conceptions 
have  often  degraded  both  moral  conceptions  and 
moral  practice,  is  quite  irrelevant  to  the  theoretical 
question  concerning  the  essential  relation  of  morals 
and  religion.  Equally  irrelevant  is  the  question 
whether  Christianity  has  contributed  anything  to 
moral  science. 

To  give  the  discussion  any  meaning  the  question 
must  be  put  in  the  following  form :  Is  ethics  a  self- 
suflicient  science  based  solely  on  our  moral  insight, 
or  must  it  appeal  to  extra-ethical  conceptions,  spec- 
ulative or  religious,  as  well? 

Epistemology  shows  that  no  valid  theory  of  knowl- 
edge or  science  can  be  formed  without  resorting  to 
theistic  conceptions.  Any  atheistic  or  necessitarian 
theory  worked  through  to  its  consequences  leaves 
the  mind  in  hopeless  scepticism.  In  practice  the 
fact  escapes  notice  because  instinct  guai-antees 
knowledge  apparently  beyond  any  possibility  of 
question.  Thus  the  suicidal  theory  is  defended  from 
itself  by  self-ignorance,  and  is  left  free  to  go  on  the 
war-path  at  pleasure.  But  when  the  critic  comes 
and  searches  it  out,  the  fatuous  and  self-destructive 
character  of  such  theorizing  is  clearly  seen.  In 
this  general  overthrow  of  reason  itself  which  is  in- 


190  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

volved  in  atheism,  ethics  must  necessarily  share. 
In  addition,  the  automatism  implied  in  atheistic 
theory  would  bo  fatal  to  ethics,  as  it  does  not  ap- 
pear how  an  automaton  could  have  duties,  or  how 
it  could  perform  them  or  help  performing  them,  or 
how  it  could  be  responsible  in  either  case.  In  this 
most  general  sense,  then,  theism  is  a  necessary  pos- 
tulate of  ethics. 

Commonly,  however,  these  high  considerations 
are  overlooked,  and  the  claim  is  made  that  duty  is 
altogether  independent  of  any  theistic  reference. 
Our  duties  arise  from  the  concrete  relations  of  actual 
existence ;  and  they  would  not  be  modified  by  any 
speculative  theory.  This  claim  is  not  without  its 
attraction,  and  also  not  without  a  measure  of  truth. 
If  it  should  pass  to  a  positive  denial  which  implied 
automatism,  we  should  still  be  haunted  by  the  sus- 
picion that  automata  cannot  well  have  duties;  but 
so  long  as  it  simply  confines  its  attention  to  actual 
life  and  insists  upon  finding  our  duties  within  this 
life,  much  might  be  said  for  it.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  much  might  be  said  also  for  the  claim  that 
religion  has  great  significance  even  for  the  duties  of 
the  life  that  now  is.  We  must  attempt  to  follow 
the  case. 

To  understand  this  matter,  we  must  recall  the 
fact  that  ethics  contains  two  distinct  factors,  gen- 
eral moral  principles  and  ideal  conceptions  which 
condition  their  application.  The  first  factor  consists 
of  such  things  as  the  duty  of  justice,  good  will,  etc. 
These  rest  directly  upon  our  moral  insight,  and  need 
no  other  support.     Whenever  any  two  persons  meet 


ETHICS   AND   RELIGION  191 

anywhere  in  existence,  they  owe  each  other  good 
will.  It  is  indeed  possible  that  if  there  were  sup- 
posed to  ho  no  justice  in  the  heavens,  no  throne  of 
righteousness,  and  no  doom  for  inic^uity  and  oppres- 
sion, these  duties  would  be  largely  disregarded ;  but 
none  the  less  would  they  be  duties  which  ought  to 
be  recognized  and  performed. 

Those  who  contend  for  the  insufficiency  of  the 
moral  nature  have  often  mismanaged  matters  at  this 
point.  They  have  mistaken  the  need  of  an  external 
sanction  in  order  to  secure  external  obedience,  for 
the  source  of  the  moral  obligation  itself.  They 
have  even  been  led  on  by  partisan  fervor  to  main- 
tain that,  apart  from  the  sanction,  the  obligation 
would  vanish.  They  overlooked  the  fact  that  ex- 
ternal obedience  alone  can  never  be  moral  obedi- 
ence ;  and  thus  were  forced  into  positions  fatal  to 
morals  altogether.  Hence,  it  has  sometimes  hap- 
pened that  irreligious,  and  even  atheistic  writers 
have  seemed  to  maintain  a  purer  ethical  system  than 
some  Christian  theologians.  But,  on  the  other 
hand,  the  defender  of  the  self-sufficiency  of  the 
moral  nature  has  failed  to  see  that  practically,  and 
for  human  beings  in  their  actual  stage  of  develop- 
ment, the  question  of  an  external  sanction  may  be 
of  great  importance,  like  the  affixing  of  penalties 
to  human  laws.  This  has  led  them  to  contend 
that  purely  moral  considerations  alone  are  all-power- 
ful with  men,  and  sometimes  they  have  even  per- 
horresced  any  consideration  of  consequences,  as 
dimming  the  splendor  of  their  pure  and  utter  de- 
votion.    The  thought  of  a  future  life  has  been  pe 


192  PRINCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

culiarly  painful  in  this  respect.  The  debate  has  gen- 
erally been  vitiated  by  a  one-sided  or  incomplete 
conception  of  ethics.  Abstract  conscientiousness 
has  been  made  the  sum  of  morals  by  one  party ; 
and,  as  a  companion  piece,  extraneous  and  adven- 
titious reward  has  been  set  up  by  the  other  party 
as  the  only  aim  and  reason  of  conduct. 

In  addition  to  the  general  debate,  a  special  one 
has  been  carried  on  between  the  partisans  and  the 
opponents  of  the  Christian  revelation.  The  claim 
is  made,  on  the  one  hand,  that  Christianity  has 
made  great  additions  to  ethical  doctrine;  on  the 
other  hand,  this  claim  has  been  vigorously  con- 
tested. Much  heat  and  misdirection  of  learning 
were  the  chief  results. 

In  one  respect,  however,  it  must  be  admitted  that 
even  Christian  teaching  has  often  wrought  moral 
damage.  Its  various  ascetic  manifestations  may 
illustrate.  These  are  intelligible  as  reactions  against 
a  w4de-spread  and  destructive  EiDicureanism.  They 
are  also  intelligible  as  mistaken  inferences  from 
the  emphasis  wdiich  Christianity  puts  on  the  worth 
of  the  soul.  The  ever-present  irony  of  death, 
also,  which  so  surely  blights  all  earthly  prospects 
and  blasts  all  earthly  hopes,  readily  lends  itself  to 
these  misinterpretations.  Similar  manifestations, 
less  heroic  and  also  less  noble,  are  often  found  in 
religious  circles  in  an  indifference  to  social  and 
political  duties.  The  whole  w^orld  lies  in  wicked- 
ness. Politics  are  mire  and  filth.  There  is  no  hope 
or  help  in  anything  but  a  supernatural  irruption 
from  above.     Reflections  of   this  sort   have    often 


ETHICS   AND   RELIGION  193 

turned  religious  persons  into  bad  citizens  and  in- 
different neighbors.  And  this  must  be  the  case  with 
any  view  which,  from  whatever  source  it  may  draw 
its  inspirations,  does  not  find  the  chief  forms  of  con- 
crete duty  within  the  visible  life. 

Returning  to  the  theoretical  question,  the  formal 
principles  of  conduct  are  able  to  stand  al(jne,  at 
least  as  able  as  anything  else  in  our  mental  life. 
Whether  they  can  get  themselves  obeyed  when 
standing  alone  is  a  practical  (question  Avith  which 
we  have  no  present  concern.  The  dependence  of 
ethics  on  something  beyond  our  formal  intuitions 
appears  in  connection  with  the  second  factor  men- 
tioned, the  set  of  conditioning  conceptions.  As 
pointed  out  in  a  previous  chapter,  the  practical  out- 
come in  conduct  depends  quite  as  much  on  these 
conceptions  as  on  the  formal  principles.  Plato  wrote 
wonderfully  about  the  just  and  the  good;  but  his 
theory  was  compatible  in  his  own  mind  with  infant- 
icide and  the  killing  off  of  the  old  and  helpless. 
Aristotle's  ethics  has  abiding  value  for  all  time,  but 
he  viewed  slavery  as  both  rational  and  right.  The 
trouble  in  these  cases  was  not  in  their  ethical  in- 
sight, but  in  their  philosophy  of  man,  or  in  their 
concei^tion  of  the  worth  and  destiny  of  the  human 
person.  Apart  from  some  high  ideal  of  the  worth 
of  man,  there  will  be  no  high  effort  for  his  improve- 
ment, and  no  inviolable  sacredness  in  his  rights. 
Hence  it  is  that  humanitarian  effort  generally  be- 
gins by  affirming  some  higher  idea  of  man  and  his 

destiny   than   that    which    actually    obtains;    and 
13 


194  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

hence  it  is,  also,  that  such  effort  is  generally  re- 
sisted by  emphasizing,  or  inventing,  degrading  con- 
ceptions of  the  men  in  question. 

But  the  meaning  and  destiny  of  human  life  are 
not  given  in  any  intuition  of  the  moral  nature. 
Our  ideas  concerning  them  are  bound  up  with  our 
general  conceiDtion  of  the  universe.  If  we  regard 
the  world  as  dej^ending  on  a  blind  force  which  is 
forever  weaving  and  forever  unweaving,  so  that, 
sooner  or  later,  all  things  vanish  into  silence  and 
nothingness,  then  man  becomes  an  ephemeral  prod- 
uct of  nature  without  any  abiding  significance  and 
without  any  high  task  or  destiny.  Sympathy  would 
be  the  sum  of  ethics. 

Or  we  may  suppose  human  life  to  end  with  the 
earthly  act.  In  that  case  the  will  would  lose  its 
chief  inspiration  and  driving  force;  not  so  much 
because  another  life  is  needed  to  reward  or  punish 
for  the  deeds  of  this,  as  because  everything  would 
be  so  fragmentary  and  meaningless  that  nothing 
would  be  worth  while.  The  continuity  of  life  is 
needed  to  give  meaning  to  life.  It  is  needed  to 
make  high  aims,  or  hopes,  or  strenuous  endeavor 
possible.  Of  course  we  could  be  formally  conscien- 
tious with  only  the  present  life  in  view,  but  such 
conscientiousness  is  only  the  shell  of  moral  activity 
and  is  largely  negative  besides.  But  man  as  active 
needs  some  task  to  perform,  some  worthy  aims  to 
realize;  and  these  necessarily  dej^end  on  our  con- 
ception of  the  meaning  and  destiny  of  life.  The 
possibility  of  their  realization  also  depends  on  some- 
thing  beyond   ourselves,  ultimately  on  the  essen- 


•  \ 


ETHICS   AND    RELIGION  195 

tial  structure  and  meaning  of  the  universe.  Hence 
the  aims  we  purpose  for  ourselves  and  others  are 
necessarily  involved  in  our  general  theory  of  life  and 
existence,  that  is,  in  our  religious  and  speculative 
conceptions. 

Here  wo  touch  the  point  of  chief  jn-actical 
difficulty  with  all  ethical  systems,  religious  and 
irreligious  alike.  The  great  jH'actical  trouble,  apart 
from  the  evil  will,  is  less  a  lack  of  light  than  a 
general  discouragement,  a  doubt  whether  any- 
thing worth  while  is  attainable  under  the  circum- 
stances of  our  existence.  Life  is  both  short  and 
tedious.  Sundry  retail  virtues  are  indeed  possible 
without  looking  beyond  visible  existence;  but  when 
we  are  looking  for  some  supreme  aim  which  shall 
give  meaning  and  dignity  to  life  and  make  it  worth 
while  to  live,  then  our  j^uzzles  begin.  Man  him- 
self is  a  disheartening  object  of  contemplation.  We 
have  already  seen  how  embryonic  he  is  when  meas- 
ured by  any  ideal  standard.  No  amount  of  inspec- 
tion will  make  the  actual  man  inspiring  or  promis- 
ing. The  ''choir  invisible,''  it  seems,  exists  only  in 
the  imagination.  The  great  cosmic  order  is  not 
manifestly  constructed  for  moral  ends.  It  seems 
mostly  indifferent  to  them  and  at  times  even 
opposed.  Such  are  some  of  the  depressing  and 
disheartening  reflections  which  meet  us  when  we 
begin  to  look  about  for  some  supreme  practical  ideal 
and  inspiration.  They  are,  too,  the  great  source  of 
the  pessimism  which  has  settled  dow^l  on  so  many 
earnest  minds  which  have  cut  loose  from  religious 
faith.     As  yet  no  relief  has  been  discovered,  except 


196  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

in  some  extra-ethical  assumptions  of  a  religious 
nature.  The  fatuity  of  seeking  to  solve  such  prob- 
lems by  the  easy  and  obvious  rhetoric  concerning 
virtue  being  its  own  reward  is  manifest. 

There  is,  too,  a  theoretical  difficulty  arising  within 
the  field  of  ethics  itself.  This  is  due  to  the  fact  that 
we  are  under  two  laws,  the  formal  moral  law  and 
the  law  of  happiness.  These  two  lie  parallel  and  to 
a  great  degree  are  identical ;  but  often  enough  they 
have  an  apparent  jDarallax.  The  dictates  of  con- 
science are  not  always  those  of  visible  prudence.  In 
many  crucial  cases,  it  is  not  worldly-wise  to  be 
righteous  overmuch.  A  judicious  trimming  seems 
often  wiser  than  an  excessive  stikling  for  principle. 
Within  certain  limits,  also,  a  species  of  self-sacrifice 
for  the  common  weal  is  wise ;  but  it  is  far  from  being 
made  out  that  my  own  good  coincides  throughout 
with  the  common  good.  Such  coincidence  of  visible 
good  is  manifestly  non-existent  for  the  patriot  who 
dies  for  his  country,  and  for  all  others  whose  public 
service  is  jDersonal  loss.  Indeed,  such  service  is 
commonly  discredited  unless  it  is  strikingly  success- 
ful from  a  utilitarian  standpoint ;  and  there  v/ill  al- 
ways be  a  large  number  of  ill-conditioned  minds  to 
suspect  and  allege  bad  motives,  and  to  decry  even 
the  purest  patriotism.  In  other  cases,  tendencies 
may  be  discerned  or  believed  in,  but  of  old  the  short- 
ness of  personal  life  has  been  a  great  embarrassment. 
To  have  a  heart  too  sensitive  to  others'  woes,  to  be 
driven  by  conscience  to  challenge  successful  iniquity, 
to  live  in  the  presence  of  unattained  and  rebuking 
ideals,  to  concern  one's  self  much  about  the  moral 


ETHICS   AND   RELIGION  197 

upbiiiklinj?  of  men — this  is  not  the  way  to  comfort 
and  sentient  peace.  8uch  ends  can  be  reached  far 
more  readily  by  cultivating  a  wise  selfishness  and 
a  thick  skin. 

Now  if  we  may  assume  that  the  common  good 
and  the  individual  good  are  at  bottom  one,  so  that 
the  service  of  the  common  good  leads  to  the  highest  ' 
and  best  individual  good,  we  can  adjust  the  facts 
of  life  to  our  moral  nature.  If  we  may  likewise 
assume  that  the  highest  and  best  is  also  the  safest 
and  wisest,  then  our  moral  nature  can  breathe 
freely.  Without  these  assumptions,  we  can  only 
conclude  that  our  nature  has  somehow  lost  its 
way,  and  that  duty  must  be  restricted  within  the 
limits  of  prudence.  For  we  have  seen  that  the  first 
duty  of  ethics  is  to  be  rational.  Hence,  there  can 
be  no  duty  to  anything  which  transcends  the  agent's 
true  interest.  No  law  can  be  obligatory  which  is 
too  large  for  the  good  of  the  subject.  If,  then,  the 
moral  law  as  given  is  too  large  for  visible  life,  either 
we  must  enlarge  the  life  to  fit  the  law,  or  cut  down 
the  law  to  fit  the  life.  Out  of  these  difficulties  arise 
the  antinomies  of  conscience.  They  appear,  first,  in 
the  relation  of  the  well-being  of  the  individual  to 
that  of  the  many ;  and,  secondly,  in  the  sacrifice  of 
visible  good. 

The  difficulty  involved  in  the  first  point  is  com- 
monly overlooked.  As  immorality  commonly  takes 
the  direction  of  selfishness,  ethics  has  emphasized  the 
duty  of  unselfishness,  but  not  always  with  proper 
insight.  The  selfishness  which  is  so  obnoxious  to 
ethics  is  that  spirit  which  regards  others'  interests 


198  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

only  as  they  minister  to  our  own,  and  which  is 
ready  to  sacrifice  others  for  our  own  advancement. 
But  the  interests  of  self  are  to  be  duly  regarded 
nevertheless.  The  individual  who  has  no  interest 
in  the  common  good  deserves  all  condemnation ;  but 
that  view  is  equally  selfish  and  odious  which  would 
sacrifice  the  individual  to  society.  A  common  good 
to  which  all  minister  and  in  which  all  share  is  the 
only  conception  which  satisfies  us.  The  greatest 
happiness  of  all  is  the  noblest  aim  of  individual 
action,  provided  that  happiness  is  compatible  with 
the  noblest  and  best  being  of  the  individual.  If 
there  were  an  essential  opposition  between  them, 
no  theory  could  demand  that  the  one  should  sacri- 
fice himself  for  however  many.  In  that  case  each 
should  bear  his  lot  as  best  he  might,  and  without 
preying  on  his  neighbors,  whether  under  the  forms 
of  violence  or  those  of  pretended  morality. 

This  conclusion  would  be  valid  if  the  goods  in 
question  were  simply  those  of  the  non-moral  sensi- 
bility. It  rests  not  upon  a  selfish  desire  to  secure  the 
individual,  but  upon  a  moral  aversion  to  a  universe 
in  which  the  good  of  the  many  is  not  compatible 
with  the  best  good  of  the  individual.  That  one 
should  work  loyally  for  the  common  good  and  in 
no  spirit  of  hire  and  salary  is  a  duty  of  inalienable 
sacredness  in  a  world  where  a  truly  common  good 
is  possible,  but  there  can  be  no  such  duty  in  a  world 
where  the  common  good  of  all  is  not  possible. 
When  conduct  involves  moral  faithfuLaess,  there 
can  be  no  question.  I  would  die  for  my  country, 
said  an  old  English  hero,  but  I  would  not  do  a  base 


ETHICS   AND    RELIGION  199 

thing  to  save  it.  This  consideration  apphes  es- 
pecially to  those  easy  suggestions,  much  affected  by 
moralists  of  the  physiological  and  positive  type, 
that  the  safety  and  progress  of  society  demand  the 
existence  of  degraded  and  infamous  classes.  If  it 
were  so,  an  execration  of  the  social  structure  would 
be  in  order  like  Theodore  Parker's  famous  curse  of 
the  Commonwealth  of  Massachusetts. 

Devotion  to  the  common  good  is  the  great  condi- 
tion of  a  moral  life  and  even  of  social  existence. 
Hence,  in  one  form  or  another,  it  is  the  great  de- 
mand which  ethics  makes  upon  the  individual.  It 
is  also  of  such  practical  importance  that  men  may 
be  excused  for  not  stopping  to  investigate  the 
implications  of  such  a  requirement.  Theoretical 
ethics,  however,  must  make  this  investigation. 
Now  it  is  plain  that  there  can  be  no  duty  to  serve 
the  common  good  unless  a  truly  common  good  is 
possible ;  and  it  is  not  possible  so  long  as  any  one 
is  sacrificed  in  his  essential  interests,  or  is  used  up  in 
his  service.  The  individual  may  never  be  regarded 
as  fuel  for  warming  society.  In  a  moral  system, 
the  good  he  produces  he  must  in  some  way  share. 
In  our  zeal  against  our  native  selfishness,  we  must 
not  overlook  the  fact  that  the  individual  has  rights 
against  all  others,  singly  or  combined,  and  that  in 
a  moral  universe  provision  must  be  made  for  main- 
taining them.     This  is  the  abiding  truth  in  egoism. 

Now  if  we  may  assume  that  the  visible  and 
earthly  life  is  not  all,  and  that  the  truest  and  best 
interests  of  all  are  conciliated  and  conserved  in  the 
essential  structure  of  the  universe,  these  difficulties 


200  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

may  be  overcome.  Then  the  service  of  all  becomes 
the  truest  service  of  self.  The  individual  is  not 
sacrificed  to  society,  nor  is  society  merely  an  armed 
power  for  repressing  or  plundering  individuals. 
The  embarrassment  arising  from  the  fact  of  death 
is  also  removed ;  and  both  the  mental  and  the  moral 
nature  breathe  more  freely.  Without  these  assump- 
tions we  have  to  admit  that  our  moral  system,  ex- 
cept in  a  barren  formal  sense,  admits  of  no  rational- 
ization. In  that  case  we  must  either  fall  back  on 
mere  conscientiousness  limited  by  prudence,  or  else 
take  ethics  as  a  blind  instinct  which  somehow  fails 
to  correspond  to  the  manifest  facts  of  our  existence. 
A  moral  world  order,  a  future  life,  and  a  moral 
world  governor  who  assures  the  final  triumph  of 
goodness  are  the  assumptions  to  which  we  inevitably 
come  when  we  attempt  to  think  the  moral  problem 
through.  Of  course,  it  is  not  meant  that  ethics  as 
a  psychological  fact  is  deduced  from  such  cosmo- 
logical  and  theological  considerations.  Not  the  fact, 
but  its  rational  authority,  is  in  question  here. 

Now  we  can  better  understand  the  true  signifi- 
cance of  Christianity  for  ethics.  Eeference  has 
already  been  made  to  the  traditional  misconceptions 
on  this  point.  It  has  been  urged  that  Christianity 
contributes  nothing  to  ethics.  On  the  other  hand, 
it  is  claimed  that  the  natural  conscience  has  always 
made  sorry  work  of  it  until  enlightened  by  the 
Christian  revelation.  In  support  of  the  former 
claim,  it  is  pointed  out  that  the  Greeks  gave  an 
abiding  form  to  ethical  truth  long  before  Christ 


ETHICS    AND    RELIGION  201 

came.  The  sacred  books  of  the  East  are  also  de- 
clared to  be  mines  of  moral  truth  In  addition, 
deep  sayings  and  profound  insights  are  reported 
from  many  extra-Christian  regions.  In  rebuttal, 
it  has  been  common  to  dwell  upon  the  moral  con- 
dition of  heathendom,  past  and  present.  The  in- 
decisiveness  of  both  sets  of  considerations  is  obvious. 
In  truth,  the  significance  of  Christianity  lies  far 
less  in  the  field  of  formal  moral  judgments  than  in 
that  of  the  extra-ethical  conceptions  which  condition 
their  application,  and  even  more  in  that  of  moral 
and  spiritual  inspiration.  In  this  last  respect  it  is 
as  steam  compared  with  ice,  which,  however  iden- 
tical chemically,  are  dynamically  very  different. 
Our  conceptions  of  God,  life,  and  death  have  been 
greatly  clarified  by  Christianity.  Thereby  a  vast 
extension  has  been  given  to  moral  principles  and 
the  sense  of  obligation  has  been  re-enforced.  It 
also  affirms  an  origin  and  destiny  for  man  w^hich 
give  him  an  inalienable  sacredness.  By  its  edict  of 
comprehension,  it  makes  all  men  children  of  a  com- 
mon Father  and  heirs  of  eternal  life.  It  removes 
the  antinomies  of  conscience  by  declaring  that  he 
that  saveth  his  life  shall  lose  it,  while  he  that  seeks 
first  the  kingdom  of  God  shall  have  all  true  good 
added  therewith.  There  is  a  moral  kingdom  stretch- 
ing over  all  worlds  and  ages.  The  moral  law  is  not 
merely  a  psychological  fact  in  us,  but  also  an  ex- 
pression of  a  Holy  Will  which  can  be  neither  defied 
nor  mocked.  Hence  its  triumph  is  secure.  The 
universe,  then,  and  God  w^ithin  and  beyond  the 
universe,  are  on  the  side  of  righteousness.      Chris- 


202  PRINCIPLES    OF    ETHICS 

tianity  also  sets  up  a  transcendent  personal  ideal 
which  is  at  once  the  master-light  of  all  our  moral 
seeing,  and  our  chief  spiritual  inspiration.  Thereby 
the  thoughts  of  many  hearts  have  indeed  been  re- 
vealed; for  men  never  know  so  well  what  spirit 
they  are  of  as  when  contemplating  it.  Finally,  we 
are  told  of  a  God  whose  name  and  nature  are  love, 
in  whom  we  live  and  move  and  have  our  being, 
and  who  is  carrying  all  things  on  to  an  outcome 
of  infinite  goodness. 

Now  we  have  here,  not  a  set  of  new  moral  princi- 
ples, but  a  new  setting  of  old  principles  which 
makes  them  practically  new.  Our  moral  nature 
has  not  been  transformed,  but  the  conditions  of  its 
best  unfolding  have  been  furnished.  It  is  the  same 
life  but  very  different.  The  relations  and  meanings 
of  things  have  changed.  Rights  grow  more  sacred ; 
duties  enlarge,  and  the  sense  of  obligation  deepens. 
Love  and  loyalty  to  a  person  take  the  place  of 
reverence  for  an  abstract  law.  The  law  indeed  is 
unchanged,  but  by  being  lifted  into  an  expression  of 
a  Holy  Will  it  becomes  vastly  more  effective.  The 
divine  ideal  also  makes  impossible  pharisaism  and 
spiritual  pride,  the  besetting  sins  of  all  schemes  of 
self-culture  and  stoical  self-sufficiency.  Now  such  a 
system  may  not  add  much  to  moral  theory,  but  it 
has  incalculable  significance  for  the  moral  life.  To 
pass  by  on  the  other  side  may  seem  a  small  matter 
when  possibly  it  is  only  a  question  of  adding  a  few 
days  to  a  worthless  and  wretched  existence,  but  it 
becomes  a  very  serious  thing  to  one  who  has  re- 
ceived the  words,  Inasmuch  as  ye  did  it,  or  did  it 


ETHICS   AND   RELIGION  203 

not,  unto  one  of  the  least  of  these  my  brethren,  ye 
did  it,  or  did  it  not,  to  me.  There  is  no  place  in  this 
view  for  the  cheap  charity  which  fancies  that  man 
can  live  by  bread  alone,  or  even  by  bread  and  soup. 
He  is  a  being  of  divine  parentage  and  divine  destiny, 
and  has,  therefore,  an  inextinguishable  claim  to 
our  reverence.  We  might  well  think  meanly,  and 
even  despair,  of  the  man  of  natural  history  and  even 
of  the  man  of  much  modern  philanthropy,  but  never 
can  we  despair  or  think  meanly  of  man  as  Chris- 
tianity represents  him. 

If  one  would  see  the  full  significance  of  Christian- 
ity for  ethics,  he  must  contrast  it  with  other  sys- 
tems, ancient  or  modern,  on  three  capital  points, 
the  nature  of  man,  the  nature  of  the  common  good, 
and  the  inspiration  of  duty.  He  will  then  first  un- 
derstand the  ethical  limitations  involved  in  the 
narrow  world  view  of  the  Greeks,  and  in  the  ex- 
ternalism  of  modern  secular  philanthropy.  The 
latter  having  no  outlook  beyond  things  seen,  and  no 
power  to  cleanse  more  than  the  outside  of  the  cup 
and  platter,  must  confine  itself  to  sanitation,  model 
tenements,  the  distribution  of  soup,  and  similar 
matters.  These  things  are  no  doubt  good,  and,  in 
their  way,  necessary ;  but  they  lead  to  so  little  for 
the  individual  that  the  sure  outcome  of  this  kind  of 
thinking  is  to  replace  the  individual  by  the  "race" 
or  the  "  species,"  or  "  humanity,"  or  some  other  logi- 
cal fiction,  as  the  thing  to  be  worked  for. 

It  would  be  undue  deference  to  ignorant  or  un- 
principled folly  seriously  to  raise  the  question 
whether  the  Christian  view  of  God  and  man  and  of 


204  PRINCIPLES    OP   ETHICS 

their  mutual  relations  has  any  value  for  the  moral 
life.  But,  on  the  other  hand,  it  must  be  admitted 
that,  while  the  great  inspirations  of  life  come  from 
the  Christian  world -view,  the  concrete  forms  of  duty 
must  be  found  mainly  in  the  life  that  now  is.  This 
is  the  important  truth  in  secularism,  the  truth 
which  religiosity  has  so  often  missed.  And  it  is 
only  by  holding  fast  to  this  truth  that  we  can  escape 
the  insanities  of  a  real  asceticism,  or  the  hypocrisies 
of  a  pretended  one. 

At  this  point  our  theoretical  discussion  ends.  The 
net  result  is  not  great.  It  is  easy  to  construct  a 
system  of  abstract  ethics  for  abstract  beings,  but  it 
is  not  easy  to  apply  this  system  to  actual  life  so  as 
to  clear  up  all  difficulties.  We  have  to  emphasize 
objective  ethics  and  we  have  to  emphasize  subjective 
ethics ;  and  in  neither  field  can  we  reach  a  completed 
system.  Everything  is  in  motion  but  a  few  formal 
principles;  and  even  these  are  subject  to  change  in 
their  apjDlication.  We  lack  knowledge  both  of  the 
objective  system  and  of  ourselves.  In  particular, 
our  conception  of  the  meaning  and  destiny  of  human 
life  cannot  be  theoretically  fixed,  and  the  dreams 
which  may  be  dreamed  concerning  it  inevitably 
come  into  ethics  as  a  transcendental  factor,  and 
disturb  the  simplicity  of  our  theory.  Men  seem 
bent  on  believing  that  the  meaning  and  centre  of 
gravity  of  existence  lie  in  the  invisible ;  and  hence 
they  can  never  be  brought  to  limit  duty  by  the 
dictates  of  visible  prudence.  They  will  sacrifice 
themselves  for  family,  for  country,   for  truth,  for 


ETHICS   AND   RELIGION  205 

God,  all  of  which  is  paliiably  absurd  from  any  stand- 
point of  egoistic  prudence,  and  which  is  equally 
absurd  from  any  staiidjDoint,  if  this  devotion  is  to 
end  in  nothing.  There  still  remains  something 
oracular  in  the  moral  nature,  after  prudence  has 
exhauste^xl  all  its  resources  and  counsel.  Moreover, 
out  of  this  has  come  the  bulk  of  what  gives  worth 
to  human  history.  If  we  should  subtract  from  the 
latter  all  that  is  due  to  the  conviction  that  it  is 
''  perdition  to  be  safe "  when  for  the  truth  or  for 
country  one  ought  to  die,  it  would  not  be  worth 
while  to  write  the  rest.  But  just  as  little  can  we 
give  up  the  truth  of  objective  ethics,  and  for  the 
final  harmony  of  the  two  we  must  fall  back  on  the 
conviction  that  the  world  is  essentially  rational  and 
moral,  and  will  finally  be  manifest  as  such.  Mean- 
while we  can  only  work  along  with  such  loyalty  to 
the  highest  as  we  can  command,  availing  ourselves 
also  of  all  light  upon  life  from  whatever  quarter  it 
may  come. 

We  pass  now  from  this  study  of  ethical  principles 
to  a  brief  survey  of  our  leading  ethical  relations. 


CHAPTER   YIII 

ETHICS   OP   THE   INDIVIDUAL 

Many  of  our  duties  sirring  from  an  established 
social  order,  and  have  no  meaning  apart  from 
society.  Other  duties  are  independent  of  such 
order,  being  founded  in  our  constitution  and  the 
natural  relations  of  the  persons  themselves.  As 
long  as  these  persons  exist,  these  duties  would  re- 
main, even  in  the  midst  of  social  chaos.  We  jDro- 
pose  now  to  treat  in  very  brief  outline  of  the  ethics 
of  this  field,  under  the  title  of  the  ethics  of  the  in- 
dividual in  distinction  from  the  ethics  of  the  family 
and  the  ethics  of  society. 

We  have  already  pointed  out  that  universal 
moral  ideas  must  take  their  concrete  form  from  the 
specific  nature  and  circumstances  of  the  moral 
agent.  The  law  of  love,  as  a  disposition,  gives  no 
hint  of  its  form  in  practice;  and  we  should  make 
sorry- work  of  deducing  actual  life  from  the  abstract 
notion  of  love.  We  escape  from  this  indefiniteness 
by  remembering  that  ethics  must  find  its  field  in 
the  natural  life,  and  that  it  aims  not  to  create  a 
new  realm,  but  to  give  a  moral  form  to  the  natural 
life,  or  to  help  the  natural  life  to  its  ideal  develop- 
ment and  realization.  Hence  the  fruitful  work  of 
ethics  must  lie  not  in  the  invention  of  codes,  or  in 

206 


ETHICS   OF   THE   INDIVIDUAL  207 

random  casuistry  and  apriori  8i)ecnlation,  liiit  in 
a  study  and  criticism  of  the  great  leading  forms  of 
life  itself.  Social  intercourse,  the  family,  the  state 
and  the  church  are  the  great  forms  which  human 
life  takes  on ;  and  human  duty  takes  on  forms  to 
correspond.  Instead  of  developing  life  from  ab- 
stract moral  ideas,  we  seek  to  apply  moral  ideas  to 
the  criticism  of  life.  In  this  way  we  get  a  concrete 
material  to  work  upon,  and  we  also  escape  the  laby- 
rinths of  an  unending  casuistry.  We  purpose  here- 
after to  leave  the  field  of  universal  ethics,  and  to 
limit  our  attention  to  human  life  and  human  moral- 
ity. As  we  are  compelled  to  pass  behind  concrete 
life  to  find  the  moral  ideas  which  underlie  it,  so,  con- 
versely, we  are  compelled  to  pass  back  again  from 
the  abstract  ideas  to  actual  life  in  order  to  learn 
their  concrete  significance.  The  abstract  idea  of 
love  is  a  cold  and  cheerless  thing  compared  with 
love  as  realized  in  the  relations  of  friendship  or  the 
family.  Whatever  may  be  possible  for  the  angels, 
human  love  has  to  begin  in  those  concrete  forms 
marked  out  for  it  by  our  constitution.  This  is  so 
necessary  that  the  professional  philanthropist  is  an 
object  of  general  suspicion,  and  often  justly  so. 
Happily,  human  beings  are  not  abstract  philan- 
thropists, but  citizens,  neighbors,  fathers,  mothers, 
and  children;  and  within  these  relations  the  funda- 
mental forms  of  human  morality  are  to  be  sought. 
We  return  to  the  subject  proposed. 

The  most  general  division  of  the  individual's  duties 
distinguishes  duties  to  self  and  duties  to   others. 


208  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

Not  all  writers  allow  this  division.  Some  contend 
that  duties  to  self  are  improperly  so  called;  as 
they  refer  to  purely  natural  interests  which  take 
sufficient  care  of  themselves.  It  does  not  seem  worth 
while  to  speak  of  the  duty  to  eat  our  meals  or  to 
provide  for  oar  future.  Men,  it  is  said,  do  all  these 
things  naturally,  and  there  is  no  moral  interest 
attaching  to  them.  Duties  j^roper  are  found  only 
in  action  toward  others.  Self -regarding  action  is 
natural,  but  only  altruistic  action  is  moral.  The 
division  has  also  been  disputed  on  the  ground  that 
the  two  classes  are  not  mutually  exclusive,  each 
involving  the  other  to  a  greater  or  less  degree.  The 
last  objection  is  valid  in  many  cases,  but  not  univer- 
sally. 

The  other  objection,  that  self-regarding  duties 
are  natural  and  take  care  of  themselves,  is  true  at 
best  only  of  the  most  elementary  physical  duties, 
and  is  not  strictly  true  even  there.  There  is  need 
of  rational  guidance  and  self-control  along  the 
whole  line  of  conduct ;  for,  in  man  at  least,  unguided 
instinct  perfects  nothing.  The  objection  further 
assumes  that  the  moral  nature  is  exhausted  in  the 
law  of  good  will.  We  have  seen,  however,  that  an 
ideal  of  humanity  is  needed  to  give  form  to  that 
law,  and  that  without  the  ideal  the  law  would  be 
compatible  with  the  most  degrading  interpretations. 
The  moral  person  is  the  unit  of  values  in  the  moral 
system;  and  unless  he  have  an  absolute  value  in 
himself,  no  community  of  such  persons  can  have 
any  value.  Now  the  value  of  the  moral  personality 
consists  by  no  means  in  what  can  be  got  out  of  it, 


ETHICS   OF   THE   INDIVIDUAL  209 

but  rather  in  itself.  The  good  man  is  an  end  in 
himself.  Ho  is  the  only  unconditional  end.  He  is 
the  end  in  relation  to  which  all  other  ends  acquire 
their  chief  significance  in  the  human  order,  and  to 
which  they  owe  all  their  sacredness.  Unless  we  are 
prepared  to  open  the  way  to  theories  of  force  and 
violence  we  must  affirm  the  inviolable  sacredness  of 
the  moral  person. 

In  this  sense  duties  to  self  must  take  the  first 
rank  in  ethics.  No  one  is  or  can  be  responsible  for 
others  as  for  himself.  Every  one  must  be  a  moral 
object  for  himself,  and  an  object  of  supreme  im- 
jiortance ;  for  he  is  not  simply  the  particular  person, 
A  or  B,  he  is  also  a  bearer  of  the  ideal  of  humanity, 
and  its  realization  depends  pre-eminently  upon  him- 
self. In  the  unique  mystery  of  self-consciousness, 
it  becomes  possible  for  one  to  make  himself  his  own 
object;  and  nowhere  else  has  he  the  responsibility 
that  he  has  here.  Every  one,  then,  must  have  a 
sacredness  for  himself  as  well  as  for  others;  and 
whatever  one  does  for  others  must  be  conditioned 
by  what  is  due,  not  to  his  own  egoistic  impulses,  but 
to  his  essential  humanity.  This  is  the  most  impor- 
tant asi)ect  of  duties  to  self. 

So  far  as  these  duties  can  be  considered  apart 
from  duties  to  others,  they  consist  in  regarding  in 
both  its  positive  and  its  negative  bearings  the  ideal 
of  humanity  in  one's  life,  in  developing  and  realiz- 
ing the  same,  and  in  the  due  unfolding  of  all  our 
powers  so  as  to  render  ourselves  as  adequate  as 
possible   to   demands   upon   us.      Failure   in   these 

duties  may  consist,  first,  in  a  flouting  and  rejection 
14 


210  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

of  the  ideal ;  secondly,  in  an  indolent  acquiescence 
in  admitted  imperfection ;  and  thirdly,  in  a  general 
thoughtlessness  leading  to  complete  pauperism  of 
soul,  and  constituting  us  mere  cosmic  rubbish,  a 
dead  loss  to  ourselves  and  to  others. 

The  duty  just  dwelt  upon  has  as  much  social  as 
individual  reference.  This  is  even  more  the  case 
with  the  duty  of  having  an  occupation  of  some 
sort.  A  jDcrson's  vocation  is  the  general  form 
under  w^hich  he  serves  both  society  and  himself,  and 
by  which  he  vindicates  a  place  for  himself  and  a 
title  to  moral  consideration  in  our  workaday  world. 
Eightly  understood,  the  vocation  is  an  institution 
of  great  and  growing  moral  significance.  In  what- 
ever way  we  approach  the  subject,  we  are  led  to 
condemn  the  drone,  the  trifler,  the  idle  consumer 
in  a  world  like  ours.  He  has,  indeed,  been  the 
object  of  much  admiration,  especially  in  countries 
with  aristocratic  institutions,  but  he  is  slowly  com- 
ing to  be  an  object  of  general  contempt  and  con- 
demnation. 

There  is  no  need  further  to  treat  of  duties  to  self 
in  distinction  from  duties  to  others,  as  they  so 
largely  run  together.  The  chief  and  best  part  of 
our  own  moral  development  arises  only  in  and 
through  our  social  activities.  Here  it  is  pre-emi- 
nently true  that  he  that  saveth  his  life  shall  lose  it. 
The  objection  that  would  find  selfishness  in  such 
action  is  purely  fictitious,  and  arises  from  regarding 
the  abstractions  of  theory  rather  than  the  concrete 
realities  of  life.  The  abstract  moral  agent  is  fur- 
nished with  a  set  of  clearly  conceived  motives  and 


ETHICS   OF   THE   INDIVIDUAL  211 

is  clearly  conscious  of  them  all  the  time ;  and  then 
we  are  puzzled  how  to  keep  his  altruistic  action 
pure  from  the  taint  of  selfishness.  The  puzzle  is 
solved  by  perceiving  the  fictitious  nature  of  the 
problem.  The  motive  emerges  in  the  work  and  ex- 
perience itself.  We  find  ourselves  moved  to  mutual 
helpfulness,  and  we  find  ourselves  enlarged  and 
blessed  therein ;  but  that  wise  egoist  who  takes  to 
altruism  for  his  own  upbuilding  lives  and  moves 
and  has  his  being  only  among  the  abstractions  of 
ethical  speculators. 

But  it  is  not  always  that  the  interests  of  self  and 
of  others  are  the  same.  In  a  certain  general  way 
they  are  identical.  The  common  good  cannot  fail 
to  be  a  particular  good.  An  established  social  order, 
a  developed  civilization,  widespread  culture,  these 
are  common  goods  which  are  at  the  same  time 
goods  for  the  individual.  But  within  such  a  scheme, 
there  are  many  cases  where  the  interests  of  self  and 
those  of  others  are  incompatible  without  mutual  lim- 
itation. This  is  true  of  rights  in  general.  Rights 
for  one  are  limitations  for  others.  Hence  the  need 
of  adjustment  and  compromise.  Here  is  a  point 
where  exact  and  final  determination  can  never  be 
made,  whether  from  the  subjective  or  from  the 
objective  side.  Who  can  tell  where  egoism  ends 
and  altruism  begins;  or  w^ho  can  fix  the  measure  of 
self-sacrifice  or  of  practical  help,  or  of  the  subordina- 
tion of  the  individual  to  society?  Negatively,  duty 
may  be  clear ;  but  the  quantitative  determination  of 
positive  duty  can  never  be  exact.  The  relation  of 
rest  and  labor  and  the  measure  of  each,  the  point 


213  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

where  rest  becomes  indolence  or  labor  excessive,  the 
measure  of  i^hysical  and  mental  training,  the  scope 
to  be  allowed  to  individual  idiosyncrasy  in  fixing 
the  form  of  life  and  the  kind  of  occupation — these 
questions  admit  of  no  final  quantitative  determina- 
tion ;  and  such  determination  as  is  reached  is  rela- 
tive to  the  circumstances  of  the  person.  To  attempt 
to  solve  these  problems  theoretically  would  lead  to 
a  pedantic  casuistry  which  would  be  either  absurd 
or  insane  in  practice.  In  such  matters  we  have 
only  the  conventions  of  society,  which  are  a  species 
of  solution  of  the  question,  and  a  growing  ajDprehen- 
sion  of  the  bearings  of  conduct.  Concerning  these 
conventions  we  have  the  knowledge,  first,  that  they 
fix  the  rough  outlines  of  duty  and  expectation,  and 
secondly,  that  they  are  never  to  be  viewed  as  so 
accurate  as  not  to  need  the  constant  supervision  of 
the  free  moral  spirit.  Here  is  a  field  for  moral 
originality,  a  field  in  which  the  individual  has  at 
once  the  initiative  and  the  decision.  Here,  too, 
is  the  field  for  what  may  be  called  moral  taste 
and  delicacy.  Some  things  are  not  to  be  argued 
about ;  they  must  be  immediately  seen.  To  need  a 
reason  is  of  itself  ominous.  To  drive  a  hard  bar- 
gain with  a  friend,  to  sell  one's  vote,  to  take  advan- 
tage of  another's  needs  or  ignorance,  are  deeds  of 
baseness  concerning  which  it  were  humiliation  to 
argue.  It  is  in  this  large  unformulated  field  of 
duty,  that  the  moral  si)irit  of  a  life  is  especially 
revealed. 

Hence,  our  ethical  code  must  always  be  incom- 
plete.    Sundry  principles  are  established,  and  cer- 


ETHICS   OF  THE   INDIVIDUAL  213 

tain  elementary  duties,  largely  negative,  may  be 
laid  down ;  but  in  applying  our  principles  to  conduct 
as  a  whole  we  find  great  uncertainty  as  to  the 
ethical  frontier.  The  problem  itself  admits  of  no 
general  solution.  There  is  no  guide  but  the  moral 
spirit  and  such  wit  and  wisdom  as  we  may  possess. 
Accordingly  we  find  great  difference  of  opinion, 
even  among  ourselves,  concerning  the  things  com- 
patible with  personal  and  public  morality.  One 
man  wants  every  one  to  forego  his  rights  in  the 
interest  of  some  particular  weak  brother.  Another 
proposes  to  solve  the  problem  of  the  tariff  by  appeal- 
ing to  the  Golden  Rule.  Partisan  editors  and 
stump  speakers  are  especially  edifying  when  apply- 
ing the  moral  law  to  their  opponents  and  their 
opponents'  measures.  Multitudes  everywhere  are 
perpetually  trying  to  impose  their  opinions  upon 
others  under  the  guise  of  conscience.  This  state  of 
affairs,  when  it  does  not  spring  from  plain  hyiDocrisy, 
is  due  to  the  indeterminate  nature  of  the  moral 
problem.  In  such  cases  every  one  must  be  per- 
suaded in  his  own  mind,  and  would  also  do  well  to 
cultivate  charity  toward  his  neighbors. 

This  impossibility  of  exhausting  duty  from  the 
positive  side  compels  a  limitation  of  the  discussion. 
Hence,  in  order  to  have  a  field  comparatively  limited 
and  definite,  we  pass  to  the  doctrine  of  personal 
rights.  By  personal  rights,  in  distinction  from 
political  rights,  we  understand  those  which  are 
founded  in  the  nature  of  the  moral  person  and  are 
independent  of  positive  enactment. 


214  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

Our  nature  demands  certain  things  as  the  con- 
dition of  our  existence  and  development.  A  moral 
community  is  jDOSsible  only  through  the  mutual  ob 
servance  of  these  conditions  so  far  as  they  are  in 
our  power.  Thus  they  become  at  once  duties  and 
rights.  The  duties  of  A  with  respect  to  B  are  the 
rights  of  B  with  respect  to  A,  Our  rights,  then, 
are  those  doings  and  omissions  on  the  part  of  others 
which  the  general  conditions  of  our  existence  make 
necessary  in  a  community  of  moral  persons. 

Such  rights  do  not  obtain  between  persons  and 
things.  We  never  speak  of  our  rights  against  a 
thunderstorm  or  a  flood.  There  we  use  our  skill,  or 
put  up  with  our  fate.  We  do  not  regard  ourselves 
as  morally  wronged  by  the  physical  forces.  Nor  do 
we  speak  of  our  rights  as  against  the  animal  world. 
We  recognize  that  this  world  is  automatic  in  con- 
duct; and  here,  too,  we  use  our  skill  and  power. 
The  limited  sense  in  which  we  recognize  rights  in 
the  animal  world  depends  on  our  duties  to  that 
world.  As  sensitive  beings  they  come  within  the 
range  of  our  duties,  and  what  is  our  duty  to  them 
may  be  called  their  rights  from  us.  But  in  the  full 
sense  of  the  word,  rights  exist  only  between  moral 
beings  who  are  capable  of  recognizing  mutual  duties. 

With  this  view  of  rights  we  carry  the  moral 
nature  into  this  field.  The  recognition  of  rights  is 
only  an  application  of  the  law  of  good  will  to  the 
general  circumstances  of  our  existence.  We  recog- 
nize one  another  as  moral  persons,  and  accord  to 
one  another  the  rights  we  demand  for  ourselves. 
Hence,  these  rights  have  all  the  sacredness  of  the 


ETHICS   OF   THE   INDIVIDUAL  215 

moral  personality,  and  all  the  binding  force  of  the 
law  of  good  will. 

For  various  reasons,  partly  historical  and  partly 
speculative,  this  view  of  rights  has  not  always  been 
accepted.  Eights  have  been  denied  outright  except 
as  expressions  of  power.  Might  makes  right,  is  the 
classical  expression.  Or  it  is  said  that  every  natural 
impulse  may  rightly  fulfil  itself ;  and  when  there 
are  competing  impulses  or  competing  persons,  the 
law  of  the  stronger  is  the  only  law.  This  view  re- 
duces to  the  previous  one.  In  both  views  the 
natural  state  of  man  is  a  war  of  all  against  all; 
that  is,  there  is  universal  competition,  with  only 
the  parallelogram  of  forces  to  decide  the  outcome. 

Such  natural  rights  are  no  rights ;  as  well  might 
we  speak  of  rights  among  conflicting  impersonal 
forces.  Such  a  state  of  nature  also  is  manifestly 
incompatible  with  the  existence  of  society.  Hence, 
many  have  sought  to  find  the  sole  source  of  right 
in  positive  law.  Apart  from  this  we  have  only 
war.  Society  puts  an  end  to  this  war  by  establish- 
ing laws;  and  these  are  the  source  of  all  rights. 
Apart  from  society,  rights  are  only  a  (question  of 
power ;  within  society  they  are  what  society  enforces 
or  permits. 

Hobbes  and  Spinoza  have  given  the  best  expres- 
sion to  this  general  view.  Nowadays  we  sometimes 
come  upon  it  as  a  polemical  weapon.  When  the 
dealer  in  natural  rights  forgets,  as  he  sometimes 
will,  that  all  rights  in  a  community  must  be  limited 
by  the  equal  rights  of  others,  and  that,  therefore, 
there   are  no   absolute  and   unconditional   natural 


216  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

rights,  the  shortest  way  of  dealing  with  him  is  to 
deny  outright  that  he  has  any  rights  other  than 
those  accorded  by  society.  But  this  is  to  meet  one 
extravagance  with  another.  The  truth  in  the  claim 
is  simj^ly  that  the  form  and  measure  of  rights  are 
often  matters  of  positive  law,  and  that  many  rights 
in  society  are  creatures  of  society.  When  the  claim 
is  made  universal,  it  is  a  doctrinaire  libel  on  man- 
kind, a  veritable  idol  of  the  speculative  den,  and  it 
reduces  all  rights  to  acts  of  arbitrary  power  or 
violence.  It  does  not  mend  the  matter  to  lodge 
this  power  in  the  state,  as  that  only  makes  the 
violence  irresistible.  Mere  power  can  make  nothing 
right.  States  themselves  have  been  guilty  of  the 
grossest  injustice  and  iniquity.  The  sentence  of 
Socrates  was  not  made  just  by  the  fact  that  the 
state  imposed  it.  But  this  is  clear  nowadays.  We 
return,  then,  to  our  conviction  that  rights  and 
duties  are  opposite  sides  of  the  relation  existing 
between  moral  beings  in  any  world  where  mutual 
influence  is  possible,  and  that,  too,  apart  from  any 
social  authority.  If  a  social  order  should  arise,  its 
great  function  would  be  to  defend  rights,  not  to 
found  them.  We  must  never  confuse  the  limita- 
tion of  natural  rights  which  necessarily  arises  in  a 
community  with  a  founding  of  the  rights  by  the 
community. 

The  first  and  primal  duty  in  a  moral  community 
is  that  of  mutual  good  will  and  the  implied  recogni- 
tion of  the  sacredness  and  inviolability  of  the  moral 
personality.     This  implies  the  sacredness  of  both 


ETHICS   OF  THE    INDIVIDUAL  217 

life  and  liberty,  and  in  this  sense  a  right  to  both. 
These  are  the  most  fundamental  of  all  rights  in  a 
moral  community,  and  are  self-evident  in  their 
necessity. 

The  right  to  freedom  would  meet  with  universal 
assent,  as  expressing  the  normal  relation  of  human 
beings,  who  are  on  the  same  plane  of  development. 
A  doubt,  however,  might  arise  in  the  case  of  those 
of  inferior  development  and  powers.  In  such  cases 
the  truth  seems  to  be  as  follows :  Ethics  can  never 
recognize  anything  but  freedom  as  the  ideal  to  be 
aimed  at ;  and  in  so  far  as  any  diminution  of  free- 
dom is  allowed,  it  must  be  impartial  and  in  the 
interests  of  all,  or  it  must  be  only  for  reasons  uni- 
versally valid.  That  diminution,  again,  may  never 
be  absolute,  or  go  to  the  extent  of  subjecting  a  per- 
son in  all  respects  to  the  will  of  another,  neither 
can  it  be  allowed  to  last  beyond  the  reason  on  which 
it  rests,  so  as  to  form  a  condition  of  abiding  and 
inherited  servitude.  Unconditional  subjection  is  no 
longer  permitted  even  in  the  case  of  the  cattle.  So  far 
as  the  freedom  of  the  person  involves  serious  danger 
to  the  community,  either  because  of  ignorance  or 
viciousness,  it  is  restricted  by  the  right  of  self- 
defence.  The  measure  of  vice  or  ignorance  which 
should  limit  freedom  is  an  indeterminate  problem. 
Ethics  insists  only  upon  freedom  as  a  right  of  the 
moral,  not  of  the  immoral,  person.  It  would  be 
fairly  hard  to  vindicate  any  rights  for  the  latter,  in 
so  far  as  immoral. 

The  only  form  of  slavery  which  could  be  ethically 
allowed  would  be  something  analogous  to  the  sub- 


218  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

jection  of  children;  that  is,  it  would  be  tutelage, 
not  slavery.  But  this  form  has  never  existed ;  and 
it  manifestly  requires  so  high  a  grade  of  develop- 
ment on  the  part  of  the  tutors  that  it  is  not  likely 
soon  to  exist.  The  only  place  where  it  is  possible, 
apart  from  the  family,  is  not  in  the  relation  of  in- 
dividuals, but  in  the  relation  of  the  higher  nations 
to  the  lower  and  childish  peojDles.  It  would  be  a 
great  gain  for  humanity  if  the  tribal  organization 
of  a  great  many  barbarous  peoples  were  overthrown 
and  they  were  subjected  to  tutelage  in  civilization 
by  any  strong  and  just  power.  But  this  also  is  some- 
what Utopian.  Thus  far  the  higher  nations  have 
seen  in  the  lower  little  but  raw  material  to  be  ex- 
ploited by  their  own  selfishness.  At  the  same  time 
something  has  been  done.  England  has  accom- 
plished something  for  humanity  in  India  and  Egypt. 

Some  measure  of  property  is  necessary  to  human 
existence.  The  need  is  founded  in  our  i^eculiar  re- 
lations to  the  means  of  existence  and  of  self-realiza- 
tion. If  the  means  of  existence  were  as  free  and 
abundant  as  light  and  air,  there  would  be  no  such 
thing  as  property  in  them.  But  the  mass  of  neces- 
sary things,  as  food,  raiment,  shelter,  are  not  fur- 
nished freely  by  nature  but  only  in  response  to  our 
effort  and  labor.  Hence,  the  need  of  some  property 
as  a  condition  of  life  itself. 

Property  is  equally  necessary  as  a  means  of  self- 
realization,  and  that  not  merely  as  an  actual  posses- 
sion but  as  a  recognized  ownership.  This  is  the 
supreme  condition  of  any  consistent  and  successful 


ETHICS  OP  THE  INDIVIDUAL  219 

activity  whatever.  In  order  to  carry  out  a  plan  or 
to  realize  any  aim  in  the  world  of  things,  I  must  be 
secured  in  my  possession  of  the  o])jects  with  which 
I  am  dealing.  If  others  might  arbitrarily  break  in 
upon  my  work  and  appropriate  my  materials  and 
l)roducts,  there  could  be  no  human  existence.  Prop- 
erty with  the  implied  recognition  of  ownership  is 
the  great  institution  whereby  the  individual  secures 
his  own  freedom  and  realizes  himself. 

Property  is  an  equally  im^wrtant  institution  for 
society.  Without  ownership,  society  could  not  ad- 
vance beyond  savagery.  If  no  ownership  were 
allowed  beyond  what  could  be  physically  defended 
against  all  comers,  civilization  would  be  impossible. 
The  motive  for  acquirement  would  vanish,  and  j^os- 
session  would  be  the  signal  for  robbery.  Property, 
if  not  the  centre  of  life,  is  certainly  one  focus.  It 
is  the  centre  of  a  great  system  of  moral  and  legal 
relations,  and  of  civilizing  forces. 

Property,  then,  is  a  necessary  institution  if  we 
are  to  have  any  civilization.  Out  of  this  fact  gi'ows 
the  right  to  property.  Of  course,  this  does  not 
mean  that  others  must  furnish  me  with  property. 
As  the  right  to  life  really  means  the  right  to  un- 
disturbed continuance  of  existing  life,  so  the  right 
to  property  really  means  only  a  right  to  undisturbed 
possession  of  such  property  as  we  may  rightly  ac- 
quire. This  right  as  a  condition  of  human  develop- 
ment is  beyond  all  question.  The  debate  on  this 
subject  concerns  not  the  right  to  property,  but  the 
measure  of  this  right,  or  the  validity  of  certain 
positive  rights  in  given  states  of  society,  or   the 


230  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

right  to  a  certain  kind  of  property,  as  land.  Even 
those  who  propose  to  do  away  with  private  property 
have  only  certain  forms  of  property  in  mind ;  and 
they  all  hold  that  the  tribe  or  commune  or  state 
may  have  property  rights  as  against  other  similar 
bodies  of  men.  The  author  of  the  famous  declara- 
tion, Property  is  robbery,  did  not  think  it  robbery 
for  the  French  nation  to  hold  French  territory  as 
against  any  other  whatever.  Thus  the  idea  and 
necessity  of  property  are  universally  allowed ;  and 
the  only  actual  question  concerns  the  measure,  the 
kinds,  the  holders,  and  the  modes  of  acquiring  prop- 
erty. That  property  is  an  absolute  condition  of 
human  existence,  and  that  there  are  duties  and 
rights  essentially  connected  with  it,  is  beyond  all 
dispute. 

If  jDroperty  were  an  absolute  creation  and  could 
be  kej)t  in  a  world  by  itself,  its  creator  might  well 
claim  an  absolute  right  in  it.  In  most  cases,  how- 
ever, productive  activity  must  avail  itself  of  the 
raw  materials  of  nature  to  which  he  can  lay  no 
claim  to  an  exclusive  right.  Private  property  in 
the  common  of  nature  is  only  a  modern  idea,  and 
is  necessarily  limited  by  the  public  welfare.  This 
does  not  mean  that  the  community  has  a  right  to 
plunder  the  individual,  but  to  prescribe  the  univer- 
sal conditions  of  property-holding  as  demanded  by 
the  common  good. 

In  a  world  where  there  is  enough  for  all  and 
where  things  are  not  yet  owned,  property  might  be 
originally  acquired  by  taking  possession,  and  by  ex- 
pending labor  on  the  object.     In  the  civilized  world, 


ETHICS  OF  THE  INDIVIDUAL  221 

this  method  is  almost  obsolete,  as  pretty  much 
everythin^^  has  passed  under  ownersliip.  The  public 
lands  are  held  l)y  the  public.  More  and  more,  society 
jDrescribes  the  conditions  and  modes  of  acquiring 
and  retaining  jn-operty.  So  far  as  it  does  this,  not 
with  the  aim  of  robbing  the  individual,  but  with  an 
eye  to  the  common  interest,  its  action  is  justifiable. 
The  individual  is  compelled  to  use  his  property  so  as 
not  to  bo  a  menace,  or  a  nuisance,  to  his  neighbors. 
Testamentary  rights  are  defined  and  limited.  The 
earth  belongs  not  to  the  dead  but  to  the  living ;  and 
entail  and  mortmain  are  permitted  only  to  a  limited 
extent.     The  dead  hand  must  relax  its  grip. 

What  constitutes  property  is  not  immediately 
clear.  Men  in  their  sense  bondage  have  been  unable 
to  see  property  in  any  but  material  forms ;  and  these 
vary  with  the  social  condition.  Thus,  in  the  nomad 
stage,  property  in  land  would  be  non-existent,  as 
land  would  have  no  value.  Property  in  ideas,  in- 
ventions, literary  productions,  and  the  like,  is  of 
very  recent  recognition;  although  such  things  come 
nearer  than  any  others  to  being  absolute  creations. 
There  are,  too,  peculiarities  about  this  type  of  prop- 
erty which  make  the  right  more  difficult  of  deter- 
mination than  our  off-hand  moralists  suspect. 

In  the  moral  intercourse  of  a  normal  life,  truth- 
fulness is  an  absolute  duty ;  and  to  the  truth  we 
have  a  right.  Let  your  yea  be  yea,  and  your  nay 
nay.  This  is  the  ideal  of  social  intercourse.  What- 
soever is  mnvo  than  this  cometh  of  evil  and  tendeth 
to   evil.     This  is  beyond  all  question.     Language 


223  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

itself  presupposes  truthfulness ;  for  without  it  speech 
would  be  absurd.  Lying  is  looked  upon  as  pecu- 
liarly contemptible  in  the  liar,  and  as  involving 
an  especially  exasperating  affront  to  the  person  de- 
ceived. Hence  ethical  writers  have  generally  been 
very  emphatic  against  it  as  being  about  the  sum  of 
all  iniquity. 

At  the  same  time,  it  is  manifest  that  a  right  to 
the  truth  presupposes  the  existence  of  a  normal 
moral  order.  In  time  of  war,  the  enemy  has  no 
right  to  be  informed  as  to  our  purposes.  The  con- 
ventions of  society  are  for  the  time  suspended,  and 
craft  and  deceit  are  allowed.  Of  course,  even  mili- 
tary enemies  may  meet  in  purely  human  relations, 
or  they  may  agree  upon  something ;  and  then  the 
agreement  should  be  regarded ;  but  in  general  they 
understand  that  they  have  to  use  their  craft  and 
cunning,  and  that  they  believe  at  their  own  risk. 
In  a  similar  manner  in  society,  no  one  has  a  right  to 
an  answer  to  every  prying  or  malicious  question. 
No  one  has  a  right  to  information  of  which  he  pro- 
poses to  make  an  evil  use.  To  talk  of  a  right  in 
such  cases  is  sheer  absurdity.  In  all  such  cases  we 
have  something  analogous  to  the  state  of  war ;  and 
the  right  to  the  truth  is  equally  non-existent  in 
both  cases. 

Probably  all  would  agree  that  the  persons  men- 
tioned have  no  right  to  the  truth;  and  if  simple 
silence  on  our  part  would  prevent  them  from  learn- 
ing the  truth,  we  might  and  should  be  silent.  But 
whether  we  may  positively  mislead  the  persons  by 
telling  untruths  is  a  point  of  notorious  difficulty  and 


ETHICS   OP   THE   INDIVIDUAL  223 

ill-odor  in  casuistry.  Moralists  have  largely  con- 
tended that  it  may  never  be  allowed.  Kant  would 
not  hear  of  an  untruth  even  to  save  life,  holding 
that  if  a  bloodthirsty  villain  were  to  ask  us  where 
his  intended  victim  was  concealed,  we  should  be 
under  obligation  to  tell  the  truth,  if  we  told  any- 
thing, even  with  the  certainty  of  causing  murder. 

Ethical  opinion  has  been  greatly  divided  upon  this 
point.  In  general  there  has  been  an  agreement 
that  an  immoral  promise  ought  not  to  be  kept ;  and 
this  has  seemed  to  be  a  permissible  violation  of  per- 
sonal truthfulness.  But  it  seems  strange  that  one 
should  be  permitted  to  break  his  word  in  the  latter 
case,  in  the  interest  of  morality,  and  not  in  the  for- 
mer. There  is,  too,  no  agreement  as  to  what  con- 
stitutes the  lie.  If  we  limit  it  to  words  spoken  or 
written  with  intent  to  deceive,  we  forget  that  lies 
may  be  told  without  words.  If  we  extend  it  to 
actions  done  with  intent  to  deceive,  we  take  in  a 
larger  number  of  cases  which  are  generally  excluded 
from  the  category  of  lying.  The  wearing  of  a  wig 
or  of  artificial  teeth  or  limbs  may  well  be  done  with 
intent  to  deceive  others  as  to  our  physical  imperfec- 
tions. Hence,  some  rigorists  have  condemned  these 
things  as  lying;  but  the  good  sense  of  men  has 
decided  that  in  this  realm  the  truth  is  the  person's 
own  affair,  and  that  others  have  no  right  to  it.  In 
fact,  underlying  the  way  taken  by  ethical  thought, 
there  is  the  conviction  that  the  duty  of  truth-telling 
lies  within  the  realm  where  others  have  a  right  to 
the  truth.  Outside  of  that  realm  the  truth  is  within 
one's  own   power.     The   question    whether    novels 


224  PRINCIPLES    OF   ETHICS 

and  fictitious  tales  are  violations  of  truthfulness 
would  hardly  be  raised  nowadays.  Its  raising 
would  argue  such  a  subjection  of  the  spirit  to  the 
letter  as  to  be  a  highly  suspicious  circumstance. 

Yet  even  in  cases  where  we  regard  the  truth  as  in 
our  o^\^l  power,  there  are  considerations  of  expedi- 
ency which   are  by  no  means   to  be   disregarded.  " 
There  is  first  the  psychological  fact  that  inexact- 
ness of  statement,  exaggeration,  unreality  in  speech 
are  sure  to  react  upon  the  mental  habit  of  the  per- 
son himself,  and  upon  the  estimate  in  which  his 
statements   are  held  by  others.     In   dealing   with 
children,  also,    however    convenient   a   romancing 
statement  might  momentarily  be,  it  is  unquestion- 
able that  exact  truthfulness  is  the  only  way  which 
does  not  lead  to  mischief.     Even  in  dealing  with 
animals,  it  pays  in   the  long  run  to  be  truthful. 
The  horse  that  is  caught  once  by  false  pretences  will 
not  be  long  in  finding  out  the  trick.     The  physician 
also  who  dissembles  quickly  comes  to  lose  the  con- 
fidence of  his  patient,  and  has  thereafter  no  way  of 
getting  himself  believed. 

In  estimating  this  result  we  need  to  notice  pre- 
cisely what  it  is.  It  is  not  a  question  whether 
common  vulgar  lying  is  ever  permissible.  This 
always  lies  within  the  field  where  we  have  a  right 
to  the  truth,  and  where  men  repose  mutual  trust 
in  each  other.  It  springs,  too,  from  a  selfish  or 
cowardly  or  diabolical  motive ;  and  reveals  a  base- 
ness of  soul  than  which  there  is  no  greater.  The 
untruth  about  which  there  can  be  any  question  lies 
always  in  another  field.     The   selfish   baseness  of 


ETHICS   OF   THE   INDIVIDUAL  225 

motive  also  is  lacking.  The  rights  of  the  other  are 
not  infringed  on;  rather  the  aim  is  to  maintain 
rights,  or  to  secure  a  good  which  were  otherwise 
lost — to  quiet  the  sick,  to  mislead  the  evil-doer,  to 
thwart  wrong,  etc.  In  such  cases  the  spirit  has 
precedence  of  the  letter.  It  is  a  choice  of  evils; 
and  in  such  a  conflict  we  must  choose  the  least.  At 
the  same  time,  he  who  departs  from  the  formal  law 
of  truth  does  so  at  his  own  risk.  It  may  turn  out 
that  straightforwardness  would  have  been  safer 
after  all ;  and  in  that  case  he  will  have  a  burden 
upon  his  conscience  which  the  sense  of  having 
meant  well  will  by  no  means  remove.  Theory 
can  lay  down  no  rule  for  such  cases.  They  have  to 
be  dealt  with  individually,  and  by  every  one  for 
himself. 

Important  practical  illustration  of  this  subordina- 
tion of  the  letter  is  found  in  the  part  played  until 
recently  by  legal  fictions.  They  without  excejDtion 
assumed  an  unreal  state  of  affairs,  whether  of  law 
or  fact,  in  order  to  make  the  case  amenable  to  legal 
treatment  or  to  avoid  some  grave  injustice.  Cer- 
tainly such  a  condition  of  the  law  is  not  desirable, 
but,  given  such  a  condition,  the  fiction  is  better  than 
the  injustice.  A  strictly  literal  interpretation  of 
subscription  to  a  creed  sometimes  gives  rise  to 
similar  embarrassment.  The  attempt  to  solve  some 
of  the  deepest  questions  of  speculation  by  easy  ap- 
peals to  the  divine  veracity  also  illustrates  the  un- 
certainty of  our  notion  of  veracity  except  as  limited 
to  the  every-day  intercourse  of  practical  life.  Un- 
veracity,  in  the  sense  of  illusion,  is  one  of  the  most 

15 


226  PRINCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

prominent  features  and  indispensable  conditions  of 
our  existence. 

Freedom  of  contract  is  one  of  the  most  important 
factors  of  the  right  to  freedom.  When  the  agree- 
ment is  made,  then  the  right  to  the  truth  is  em- 
phasized and  extended  in  the  right  to  demand  its 
fulfilment.  The  right  and  the  duty  in  this  case  in 
no  way  depend  on  the  existence  of  a  social  order  or 
of  an  established  government,  but  spring  directly 
out  of  the  relations  of  the  persons  concerned.  If 
they  were  alone  in  the  world,  the  right  and  the 
duty  would  remain  unchanged.  Society  has  nothing 
to  do  with  contracts  or  agreements  between  indi- 
viduals, either  to  enforce  or  hinder  them,  except 
as  they  may  affect  iDublic  interests.  Numberless 
agreements,  therefore,  are  left  to  the  consciences  of 
the  contracting  parties,  when  their  nature  is  in- 
different to  social  or  public  interests.  On  the  other 
hand,  society  prevents  the  fulfilment  of  all  contracts 
which  may  be  immoral,  or  illegal,  or  which  may  be 
not  absolutely  immoral  but  prejudicial  to  the  exist- 
ing social  order,  or  which  may  tend  to  evils.  Under 
this  head  come  bets,  gambling  debts,  promises  to 
pay  without  value  received,  and  the  many  agree- 
ments and  contracts  which  are  declared  void  because 
contrary  to  public  policy.  Society  further  compels 
the  fulfilment  of  such  agreements  as  may  be  neces- 
sary to  public  interests,  and  without  whose  binding 
force  no  stable  social  order  is  possible.  Morally, 
the  contracting  parties  have  no  more  rights  in  these 
cases  than  in  any  other,  the  only  difference  being 


ETHICS   OP   THE   INDIVIDUAL  227 

that  tho  law  enforces  the  right  in  one  case  and  not 
in  the  other.  The  moral  nature  is  too  little  devel- 
oped in  general  to  get  along  without  some  external 
re-enforcement. 

Not  every  agreement  is  binding.  This  is  recog- 
nized l)y  law  and  good  sense  everywhere.  The  free- 
dom of  the  contracting  parties  being  presupposed, 
the  main  conditions  which  give  an  agreement  or 
promise  binding  force  are  these : 

1.  The  agreement  must  propose  no  violation  of 
the  moral  law.  The  notion  that  one  can  be  morally 
bound  to  an  immoral  deed  is  an  ethical  contradic- 
tion. At  the  same  time  the  guilt  of  the  agreement 
is  hardly  removed  by  failing  to  keep  it.  That 
would  be  too  easy  an  absolution. 

2.  The  contracting  parties  must  be  of  sufficient 
mental  development  to  understand  what  they  are 
doing.  Hence,  promises  and  contracts  by  minors 
are  rightly  held  to.be  void. 

3.  There  must  be  no  deception  on  either  side  as 
to  the  scope  and  meaning  of  the  contract.  Where 
such  deceit  can  be  shown,  so  as  materially  to  affect 
the  nature  of  the  case,  the  promise  or  contract  is 
morally  void. 

4.  A  contract  is  not  morally  binding  when  one  of 
the  parties  is  seriously  mistaken  about  the  difficulty 
of  the  work  proposed,  or  when  in  consequence  of 
changed  circumstances  the  difficulty  increases  in 
an  unexpected  manner.  In  such  cases,  the  circum- 
stances having  greatly  changed,  the  terms  of  the 
promise  or  contract  may  demand  what  the  original 
intention  and  promise  never  included.     It  is,  then, 


228  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

the  moral  duty  of  the  one  who  has  thus  unexpectedly 
won  so  great  an  advantage  to  grant  the  other  some 
relief.  Of  course  such  duty  does  not  aj^ply  to  the 
small  fluctuations  to  which  all  markets  are  nor- 
mally subject;  as  in  that  case  most  contracts  would 
be  worthless. 

5.  Compulsory  promises  are  in  general  not  bind- 
ing. Neither  can  promises  whose  fulfilment  de- 
pends on  certain  views  or  disposition  be  held  uncon- 
ditionally binding  when  the  views  or  disposition 
have  undergone  a  permissible  change.  In  such 
cases,  arising  from  human  weakness  and  lack  of 
self-knowledge  and  foresight,  the  best  solution  of 
the  problem  seems  to  be  to  excuse  the  promiser  from 
keeping  his  promise  but  to  hold  him  liable  for  any 
loss  or  damage  resulting  to  the  promisee.  Here,  as 
elsewhere,  human  Vv'eakness  and  ignorance,  the  un- 
developed state  of  the  moral  nature  and  the  uncer- 
tainty of  human  conditions  make  the  measure  of 
obligation  indeterminate.  Vows  of  all  sorts  belong 
here.  At  the  same  time,  one  cannot  live  long  with- 
out feeling  a  growing  respect  for  the  man  who, 
having  sworn  to  his  own  hurt,  changeth  not. 

The  necessity  of  regarding  contracts  from  a  social 
as  well  as  a  personal  point  of  view  has  produced  a 
considerable  difference  between  the  legal  and  the 
moral  doctrine  of  contracts.  Many  contracts  are 
morally  binding,  but  the  law  will  not  enforce  them 
because  of  the  lack  of  some  formality,  or  because 
they  are  judged  contrary  to  public  policy.  The  law 
also  assumes  in  some  cases  to  release  persons  from 
obligations,  as  in  the  case  of  outlawed  debts  and  bank- 


ETHICS    OF   THE   INDIVIDUAL  2-^0 

rupt  laws.  Such  things  can  be  justified  only  on  the 
ground  of  social  necessities,  and  can  never  constitute 
a  moral  release  from  obligation.  The  ease  with 
which  the  debtor  accepts  a  legal  release  for  a  moral 
one  is  a  striking  illustration  of  our  embryonic  moral 
development. 

The  rights  to  life,  property,  freedom,  reputation, 
and  those  arising  from  contract  are  the  elementary 
rights  in  the  community.  These  admit  also  of  jural 
expression  and  vindication.  Beyond  these,  rights 
become  vague  and  admit  of  no  exact  formulation 
and  vindication.  Hence,  they  have  to  be  left  to 
the  insight  and  faithfulness  of  the  moral  person 
and  to  the  control  of  public  opinion.  We  have  a 
right  to  good  will,  but  there  is  no  way  of  enforcing 
it.  We  have  even  a  right  to  help  from  others  ac- 
cording to  the  measure  of  our  need ;  but  this  is  a 
right  which  can  be  neither  formulated  nor  enforced. 
This  vagueness,  together  with  the  mischief  resulting 
in  weak  minds  from  allowing  a  right  to  help  from 
others,  leads  to  a  general  denial  of  any  such  right. 
Hence  a  desire  to  limit  rights  to  such  claims  as  can 
be  legally  enforced,  or  to  make  a  distinction  between 
perfect  and  imperfect  rights.  It  is  better  to  recog- 
nize that  not  all  rights  can  be  enforced,  and  that 
not  all  rights  can  be  expressed  in  exactly  definable 
duties.  An  example  is  found  in  the  right  to  all  the 
recognized  and  current  forms  of  respect  which  ob- 
tain in  the  community,  and  to  freedom  from  all  in- 
solence of  manner  and  assumption  of  superiority. 
Uninvited  familiarity,  uninvited  interference  with 


330  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

one's  plans,  uninvited  criticism  of  personal  matters, 
overbearing  and  assuming  manners  are  a  violation 
of  the  mystery  and  sacredness  of  personality  which 
good  will  forbids  and  self-respect  rejects  as  an 
affront.  The  general  lack  in  this  regard,  which 
is  so  prominent  everywhere,  results  partly  from 
thoughtlessness  and  partly  from  a  coarseness  of  feel- 
ing analogous  to  that  which  finds  in  physical  de- 
formity a  ground  for  assumption  and  amusement. 
The  homely  duty  of  minding  one's  own  business  is 
one  of  the  utmost  social  importance. 

The  right  to  a  charitable  judgment  of  our  motives 
is  equally  plain.  Some  acts,  indeed,  carry  their 
motives  with  them ;  but  most  of  our  deeds  do  not. 
The  complexity  of  life  and  its  uncertainties  are  such 
that  the  best  motive  may  fail  to  secure  its  aim ;  and 
it  is  a  dictate  of  charity  in  such  cases  that  we 
restrict  our  judgment  to  the  deed  and  its  results 
without  extending  it  to  a  condemnation  of  the  per- 
son. One  of  the  strongest  proofs  of  human  weak- 
ness is  the  ease  with  which  we  do  the  opposite. 
Prejudice  almost  invariably  takes  the  direction  of 
unfavorable  judgToent ;  and  whenever  any  mistake 
is  made  in  public  or  private  activity,  it  is  hard  to 
persuade  ourselves  that  it  did  not  arise  from  an  evil 
motive.  For  the  partisan,  the  members  of  another 
party  are  always  very  special  manifestations  of  the 
unfruitful  works  of  darkness. 


CHAPTER  IX 

THE   ETHICS   OF  THE   FAMH^Y 

From  the  general  moral  relations  which  o]:)tain 
among  men  we  now  pass  to  something  more  dis- 
tinctively human.  This  is  the  institution  of  the 
family,  the  fundamental  moral  institution  of  the 
race,  and  the  one  above  all  others  sacred.  It  arises 
from  the  peculiar  forms  of  human  existence,  and 
especially  from  the  forms  in  which  human  life  be- 
gins. The  long  period  of  human  infancy,  physical 
and  mental,  makes  the  family  a  necessity  of 
human  development.  It  is  not  a  universal  moral 
relation,  but  only  a  human  one.  It  stands,  how- 
ever, in  such  important  relations  to  the  moral  and 
physical  well-being  of  the  race  that,  if  not  a  form 
of  universal  morality,  it  is  a  very  significant  form 
of  human  morality.  But  here,  as  elsewhere,  ethics 
has  not  to  invent  relations,  but  to  seek  the  ideal 
form  of  those  natural  relations  which  are  founded 
in  the  constitution  of  human  life ;  or,  as  Schleier- 
macher  has  it,  the  aim  of  ethics  is  to  impose  reason 
upon  nature.  The  ethics  of  the  family,  then,  must 
be  based  on  the  essential  nature  of  the  family. 

At  the  foundation  of  the  family  is  the  institution 
of  marriage,  which  is  estimated  variously  as  a 
civil  contract  and  a  religious  sacrament.     In  some 

231 


232  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

aspects  it  is  a  contract;  it  is  freely  entered  upon  by 
two  persons.  At  the  same  time  it  is  not  a  contract 
whose  contents  can  be  determined  by  the  arbitrary 
volition  of  the  parties,  nor  is  it  any  invention  of 
human  wit.  The  necessity  and  meaning  of  the 
relation  are  found  in  the  nature  of  the  case ;  and 
neither  law  nor  ethics  has  the  function  of  produc- 
ing the  natural  relations  and  necessities  on  which 
marriage  is  based. 

The  contents  of  the  notion  of  marriage  spring 
partly  from  the  physical  side  of  our  being  and  relate 
to  the  perpetuation  of  the  race.  But  this  is  far 
from  being  the  whole  of  the  matter,  or  even  its 
most  important  factor.  The  social  and  affectional 
nature  and  the  various  natural  desires  and  ambitions 
which  emerge  in  social  life  find  their  highest  satis- 
faction in  the  marriage  relation  and  the  family  life 
which  it  founds.  Accordingly,  there  is  a  very  gen- 
eral judgment,  and  one  in  which  is  the  main  cor- 
rect, that  the  unmarried  life  is  relatively  forlorn  and 
increases  in  forlornness  with  years. 

The  importance  of  the  family  as  a  moral  institu- 
tion, or  as  an  instrument  for  securing  the  moral 
development  of  men,  is  manifest.  Even  if  the  race 
could  be  propagated  without  it,  the  greater  part  of 
the  moral  culture  of  both  parents  and  children 
would  be  lost.  It  is  there  that  we  get  the  first  and 
best  lessons  in  love  and  patience  and  mutual  for- 
bearance. It  is  there  also  that  we  get  our  best 
lessons  in  reverence,  submission,  self-control,  and 
living  together.  Unselfish  devotion  also  is  generally 
bounded  by  family  limits.     Unselfish  living,  which 


THE   ETHICS   OF    THE   FAMILY  233 

is  SO  nearly  the  sum  of  moral  living,  is  almost  ex- 
clusively confined  to  the  family  life.  Here  the  un- 
selfish life  is  almost  a  matter  of  course.  It  is  this 
fact  which  gives  the  family  its  importance  as  a 
moral  institution.  The  toil  and  sacrifice  within  the 
family  necessary  to  keep  the  world  agoing  are  some- 
thing prodigious;  and  the  fact  that  they  are  under- 
taken as  a  matter  of  course,  and,  in  the  main,  un- 
complainingly and  ungrudgingly  carried  through, 
is  a  great  item  to  be  put  to  humanity's  credit. 

We  have,  then,  in  marriage  and  the  family  an 
idealization  of  the  physical  relation  of  the  sexes,  a 
recognition  of  the  deepest  needs  of  humanity,  and 
an  instrument  of  unequalled  importance  for  the 
moral  development  of  the  race. 

Of  such  an  institution  the  lower  orders  of  life  give 
no  hint.  Their  various  unions  analogous  to  mar- 
riage have  no  aim  beyond  the  continuance  of  the 
species.  They  show  nothing  whatever  suggesting  a 
moral  relation,  or  one  looking  to  a  moral  develop- 
ment. Hence,  temporary  unions  serve  all  purposes 
in  the  lower  orders.  There  is  also  no  abiding  affec- 
tion for  the  offspring.  The  period  of  infancy  is 
short ;  and  with  its  close  all  interest  seems  to  vanish. 
Nature,  too,  is  by  no  means  unfavorable  to  polyg- 
amy ;  nor  is  it  entirely  hostile  to  the  union  of  blood 
relations.  Such  hostility  as  may  exist  is  a  simple 
outcome  of  physiological  laws.  If  now  we  find  in 
marriage  a  series  of  determinations  very  different 
from  what  we  find  in  the  animal  world,  we  must 
conclude  that  man  is  not  content  to  leave  marriage 
on  a  purely  physical  plane,  but  seeks  to  elevate  and 


234  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

idealize  it  by  giving  it  a  form  peculiar  to  himself, 
and  reflecting  the  superiority  of  his  own  nature. 

What  the  historically  first  forms  of  marriage 
were,  we  have  no  occasion  to  inquire.  In  any  case 
we  are  not  likely  to  learn  much  about  them,  until 
we  become  willing  to  learn  what  was,  instead  of 
deciding  from  some  fashionable  speculation  what 
mtist  have  been.  But  whatever  they  were,  as  the 
race  develoj)s  there  is  an  approach  to  agreement  in 
the  following  conditions  as  demanded  by  the  ideal  of 
marriage : 

First,  the  union  must  be  permanent.  This  is  a 
necessity  of  supposing  marriage  to  be  based  on 
affection  and  not  simply  on  passion.  Love  cannot 
be  love  and  look  forward  to  a  time  of  indifference. 
It  is  equally  necessary  for  securing  the  moral  ends 
of  the  family  relation. 

Secondly,  the  consecration  and  surrender  must  be 
mutual.  The  complete  surrender  of  the  wife  to  the 
husband  becomes  a  degradation  unless  the  surrender 
of  the  husband  to  the  wife  be  equally  complete  and 
exclusive.  Apart  from  the  practical  numerical  equal- 
ity of  the  sexes  which  gives  us  an  important  hint  in 
this  matter,  polygamy  must  be  a  very  imperfect 
form  of  marriage  in  comparison  with  monogamy. 
Both  for  the  one  husband  and  for  the  many  wives, 
it  is  an  un-ideal  relation  at  best,  and  commonly  it  is 
something  much  worse.  Accordingly  civilized  na- 
tions have  agreed  in  proscribing  it.  Polyandry  has 
had  so  little  historical  significance  that  there  is  no 
need  to  consider  it. 

Finally,  the  set  of  feelings  which  cluster  around 


THE   ETHICS   OF   THE   FAMILY  235 

the  marriage  relation  must  not  be  brought  into 
conflict  with  those  which  ckister  around  any  other 
natural  and  normal  relation.  This  is  the  real  source 
of  the  opposition  to  marriage  between  persons  closely 
related  by  blood.  Nature  itself  in  the  animal  world 
is  not  markedly  hostile  to  such  unions;  but  the 
feelings  which  cluster  around  the  marriage  relation 
will  not  unite  without  mutual  destruction  with 
those  which  spring  from  the  parental  or  sisterly 
relation.  Hence,  such  unions  have  generally  been 
regarded  with  horror  as  among  the  most  shocking 
crimes.  Accordingly  to  Plato  they  are  "unholy, 
hated  of  God,  and  most  infamous."  Hence  incest 
has  generally  been  forbidden  and  punished.  Eccle- 
siastical law  has  often  extended  the  prohibition  to 
less  intimate  relationship,  without,  however,  much 
rational  warrant. 

That  these  conditions  are  necessary  to  give  mar- 
riage an  ideal  form,  or  to  make  it  compatible  with 
the  best  development  of  humanity,  has  been  univer- 
sally recognized  by  civilized  nations ;  and  as  ethics 
has  this  development  for  its  supreme  aim,  it  must 
insist  on  these  conditions.  Of  course,  as  society 
al)ounds  in  persons  who  have  not  developed  be3"ond 
the  animal,  we  are  likely  long  to  have  defenders  of 
the  freedom  of  the  kennel,  or  the  cattle,  as  the 
human  ideal  in  this  respect ;  but  they  serve  merely 
as  a  warning  example  of  the  baseness  j^ossible  to 
humanity. 

The  moral  validity  of  a  marriage  depends  only  on 
the  free  choice  and  action  of  the  couple  concerned, 


236  PRINCIPLES    OF   ETHICS 

and  no  other  power  whatever  can  be  viewed  as  its 
source.  No  law  can  make  a  forced  marriage  valid ; 
and  no  law  can  make  a  voluntary  marriage  morally 
invalid.  The  law  may  decline  to  recognize  such  a 
marriage  by  refusing  to  accord  or  enforce  certain 
rights,  especially  those  of  property,  which  go  with 
the  marriage  relation,  but  it  cannot  make  the  mar- 
riage morally  invalid.  If,  then,  the  interests  of 
society  were  not  affected  by  their  action,  the  pair 
concerned  should  be  free  to  manage  the  matter  for 
themselves.  However,  marriage  is  not  a  socially 
indifferent  thing.  The  married  couple  need  the 
recognition  and  assistance  of  society ;  and  society  in 
turn  has  the  right  to  demand  a  specific  announce- 
ment of  the  relation  it  is  expected  to  recognize. 
Hence,  the  various  forms  of  marriage  ceremony. 
These  have  a  double  function.  Of  course  in  many 
cases  personal  vanity  is  the  most  prominent  feature ; 
but  the  ceremony  itself  springs  partly  from  a  relig- 
ious desire  to  relate  the  union  to  the  divine  order 
of  things,  and  partly  from  a  need  of  informing 
society  of  the  fact  that  a  marriage  has  taken  place. 
Society  has  further  the  right  to  say  what  marriages 
it  will  recognize ;  and  marriages  which  do  not  meet 
the  conditions  are  held  to  be  legally  non-existent. 
Certain  strong-minded  people  have  thought  it  well 
to  ignore  the  social  regulations  in  this  matter,  hold- 
ing that  true  marriage  lies  in  the  free  choice  and 
devotion  of  the  persons  concerned.  Then  two  things 
happen.  They  first  find  their  union  not  recognized 
as  marriage  by  society,  and  next,  as  the  union  is 
legally  non-existent,  the  wear  and  tear  of  life  soon 


THE   ETHICS   OP   THE    FAMILY  237 

ends  in  the  a])andonment  of  one  party,  generally  the 
weaker,  by  the  other.  Humanity  is  weak ;  and  fidel- 
ity commonly  wears  better  when  supported  by  law 
than  when  left  to  the  bare  sense  of  honor.  At  the 
same  time,  we  must  repeat  that  the  marriage  cere- 
mony, in  so  far  as  it  is  more  than  a  mutual  pledging 
of  faith,  is  only  a  notice  to  society,  and  is  not  nec- 
essary to  the  moral  validity  of  the  union. 

The  particular  demands  made  upon  the  married 
pair  in  this  respect  vary  greatly  with  time  and  place. 
They  are  partly  religious  and  partly  legal.  With 
the  Greeks  and  Romans  in  their  best  days,  marriage 
was  essentially  a  religious  act  and  was  attended 
with  many  ceremonies  of  a  religious  character. 
Christianity  has  also  given  it  a  profound  sacredness. 
In  the  classical  world  society  fell  into  grievous  laxity 
in  the  matter.  In  the  Christian  world  also,  partly 
from  ecclesiastical  abuses  and  partly  from  more 
doubtful  causes,  marriage  from  being  a  religious  rite 
has  often  passed  over  into  a  civil  contract,  dependent 
only  on  certain  legal  formalities.  The  ground  of 
these  forms,  however,  lies  only  in  their  importance 
for  guarding  the  interests  of  society  and  of  the 
married  pair  themselves.  They  are  not  necessary 
to  give  a  marriage  binding  moral  force.  That 
depends  entirely  upon  the  free  choice  and  action 
of  the  persons  concerned.  Moreover,  when  these 
forms  collide  with  individual  freedom  as  the  only 
source  of  marriage,  or  with  the  moral  interests 
of  all  concerned,  especially  of  society,  then  they 
are  to  be  modified  or  abolished.  Tlie  marriage 
customs  of   India  are   illustrations   of   the  former 


238  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

collision ;  many  of  the  ecclesiastical  demands  which 
have  been  current  from  time  to  time  illustrate 
the  latter.  It  has  at  times  been  necessary  to  sec- 
ularize marriage  in  order  to  escape  ecclesiastical 
tyranny.  The  moral  well-being  of  all  is  the  true 
aim  and  the  only  sacred  thing.  All  else  is  instru- 
mental, and  is  to  be  estimated  accordingly.  At  the 
same  time  it  must  be  noted  that  the  forms  of  mar- 
riage ceremony  are  not  matters  of  indifference. 
Those  forms  which  emphasize  the  sanctity  of  the 
relation  and  connect  it  with  the  divine  order  are  to 
be  preferred,  even  on  prudential  grounds,  to  those 
which  view  marriage  as  merely  a  civil  contract. 

The  ideal  of  marriage  demands  that  the  union  be 
permanent.  Hence  death  is  the  only  normal  disso- 
lution. Unhappily  there  are  many  failures  in  mar- 
riage as  well  as  elsewhere,  and  thus  it  becomes 
necessary  to  consider  the  abnormal  dissolution  of 
the  relation. 

If  only  the  pair  themselves  were  concerned,  the 
question  whether  the  difference  of  tastes,  disposition, 
and  character  is  so  great  as  to  make  their  further 
union  morally  worthless,  if  not  injurious,  might  be 
left  to  their  own  consciences  and  judgment  for  de- 
cision ;  and  in  such  case  of  isolation  it  would  seem 
to  be  the  best  solution  of  such  a  difficulty  that  the 
husband  and  wife  should  separate  and  go  their  sep- 
arate w^ays.  "Free  love,"  so  far  as  it  is  not  identi- 
cal with  fornication  and  adultery,  rests  on  the  fancy 
that  only  the  interests  of  the  married  pair  are  to  be 
considered.     Other  interests,  however,  exist ;  and  to 


THE   ETHICS   OF  THE    FAMILY  239 

guard  these  society  has  adopted  certain  regulations. 
These  vary  very  greatly  for  different  times  and 
places.  Among  the  ancients  divorce  was  almost  im- 
possible when  the  marriage  had  been  religiously  cel- 
ebrated. Some  ecclesiastical  bodies  still  disallow  all 
divorce.  The  civil  regulations  consist  mainly  in  a 
refusal  to  remove  the  legal  obligations  which  the 
pair  have  assumed,  and  in  the  law  against  re-mar- 
riage while  both  are  living.  But  there  is  no  good 
reason  for  compelling  husband  and  wife  to  live  to- 
gether after  their  union  has  become  morally  worth- 
less and  revolting. 

But  it  would  be  productive  of  great  mischief  if 
the  marriage  relation  were  lightly  assumed,  and 
marriage  itself  would  sink  to  the  level  of  concubin- 
age if  its  obligations  could  be  lightly  laid  aside. 
Hence  society,  out  of  regard  to  the  best  interests  of 
humanity,  forbids  the  thoroughgoing  dissolution 
of  the  relation.  Morality,  and  hence  humanity, 
have  a  supreme  interest  in  maintaining  the  sanctity 
of  the  marriage  relation;  and  the  laws  upon  the 
subject  should  look  to  these  general  interests  and 
not  simply  to  cases  of  individual  hardship,  which, 
moreover,  will  arise  under  any  laws  whatever. 
These  moral  interests  would  seem  to  be  best  con- 
served by  forbidding  absolute  divorce  except  for 
adultery,  for  cases  where  gross  fraud  and  deception 
have  been  practised,  and  for  cases  where  one  party 
has  repudiated  the  relation  by  groundless  and  long- 
continued  desertion.  Even  then  the  right  to  re- 
marry should  be  accorded  only  to  the  innocent 
partner,  unless  we  wish  to  encourage  crime.      A 


240  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

stringent  law  upon  the  subject  would  doubtless  do 
a  good  deal  to  prevent  unlike  affinities  from  mani- 
festing themselves  to  the  extent  customary  when 
divorce  is  easy  and  re-marriage  possible.  Things 
which  we  know  we  cannot  have  we  seldom  desire, 
and  things  we  know  we  must  put  up  with  we  make 
a  shift  to  endure. 

Of  course  only  a  brute  would  dream  of  making 
sickness,  insanity,  the  various  ills  that  flesh  is  heir 
to,  and  the  manifold  imperfections  of  character 
which  in  one  form  or  another  all  possess,  a  ground 
for  divorce.  These  do  hinder  the  realization  of  the 
ideal  of  marriage,  but  not  to  such  an  extent  as  to 
call  for  separation.  They  belong  rather  to  the  gen- 
eral burden  of  life  which  the  pair  promised  to  bear 
together  when  they  took  each  other  for  better  or  for 
worse.  In  ancient  society  the  family  was  founded 
less  on  affection  than  on  religion,  and  this  deter- 
mined the  divorce  laws  to  a  large  extent.  The 
primeval  ancestor  worship  made  children  a  neces- 
sity. Hence  celibacy  was  a  crime  and  sterility  a 
ground  for  divorce.  The  ancestors  must  be  fed  or 
they  fell  into  misery. 

The  Roman  jurists  called  marriage  a  community 
of  life,  and  our  own  Scriptures  call  the  two  one 
flesh.  Such  an  ideal  of  marriage  would  of  course 
imply  a  community  of  property.  This  is  so  jDlainly 
the  natural  arrangement  that  it  has  generally  been 
a  matter  of  course.  Unfortunately  humanity  is 
still  weak,  and  the  love  of  money  continues  to  be 
the  root  of  much  evil.     Experience  has  awakened 


THE   ETHICS    OF   THE   FAMILY  241 

distrust  of  communism  in  property,  even  between 
husband  and  wife,  and  marriage  laws  have  largely- 
been  modified  so  as  to  remove  the  wife's  j)roperty 
from  the  husband's  control,  and  also  to  free  it  from 
liability  for  his  debts.  Such  an  arrangement  is  not 
an  ideal  one,  and  it  may  even  work  injustice  in 
many  cases.  Without  much  mutual  affection  and 
some  good  sense,  it  could  easily  lead  to  domestic 
discord.  It  also  contains  great  possibilities  of 
scoundrelism.  On  the  other  hand,  it  enables  one 
to  provide  for  his  family,  so  that  untoward  circum- 
stances shall  not  prove  fatal ;  and  it  serves  to  pre- 
vent marriages  for  money  to  the  extent  common 
where  such  division  does  not  exist.  It  also  saves 
the  wife  from  those  peculiarly  galling  mortifications 
which  thoughtless  and  mean  husbands  so  often  in- 
flict in  doling  out  even  necessary  money.  Upon 
the  whole,  it  seems  the  best  arrangement  for  the 
present  stage  of  human  unfolding. 

Within  the  family  a  division  of  labor  results  from 
the  nature  of  the  case.  This,  however,  is  not  to 
be  viewed  as  based  upon  any  assumed  difference  of 
rights  or  authority,  but  upon  the  practical  neces- 
sities of  life.  In  ancient  law  the  wife  was  a  minor, 
and  that  especially  because  of  her  relation  to  the 
family  religion.  She  was  under  the  control  of  her 
husband,  or,  if  a  widow,  of  her  sons  or  of  her  hus- 
band's nearest  kin.  In  savage  tribes  there  is  a 
general  tendency  to  regard  the  wife  as  an  inferior 
being.  Echoes  of  these  earlier  notions  are  still  heard 
among  ourselves.      Such  a  notion  could  be  main- 

16 


242  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

tained  only  on  the  assumption  that  the  wife  is  a 
distinctly  inferior  being,  mentally  and  morally,  who 
must  therefore  be  kept  in  a  state  of  tutelage. 
Apart  from  this  notion,  we  must  hold  that  the  hus- 
band and  wife  stand  on  an  equal  plane  of  honor  and 
rights,  and  that  the  division  of  labor  which  is  made 
must  spring  out  of  the  nature  of  the  case.  Society 
has  constituted  the  husl)and  and  father  the  official 
representative  of  the  interests  of  the  family,  and  has 
given  him  certain  rights  corresponding  to  his  spe- 
cial obligations.  Legal  proceedings  are  instituted 
by  or  against  him.  He  is  held  for  taxes,  debts,  and 
damages.  In  return  he  has  certain  powers  denied 
the  wife  and  children.  As  an  offset  the  wife  has 
immunities,  such  as  freedom  from  being  sued  for 
family  debts.  This  division  of  labor  in  single  cases 
may  not  be  the  best,  and  the  laws  may  often  work 
hardship.  Such  cases  cannot  be  avoided  without 
an  infinitude  of  special  legislation,  which  would  do 
more  harm  than  good.  Any  demand  for  modifi- 
cation of  the  laws  must  rest  upon  showing  that  the 
laws  are  unjust  in  their  general  bearing. 

The  remark  often  made  in  this  connection,  that 
there  must  be  a  head  to  the  family,  and  hence  that 
the  husband  must  be  the  seat  of  authority,  appears 
to  be  one  of  those  abstract  utterances  which  seem 
important  until  one  aims  to  understand  and  apply 
them.  However  much  pretence  or  assumption  of 
authority  there  may  be,  all  matters  are  settled  be- 
tween rational  persons  on  rational  grounds,  mutual 
concession  and  compromise;  while  between  irra- 
tional persons  they  are  settled  by  more  aggressive 


THE   ETHICS   OP  THE  FAMILY  243 

methods.  There  is  a  ludicrous  inapplicabiUty  of 
the  theoretical  doctrine  of  authority  to  the  relation 
of  husband  and  wife,  as  it  exists  among  ourselves. 
Many  a  bold  defender  of  the  husband's  authority 
has  been  subdued  to  tho  passive  voice  by  a  wife  with 
a  mind  and  personality  of  her  own ;  while  the  most 
timid  and  shrinking  wife,  theoretically,  who  w^ould  ' 
on  no  account  venture  beyond  her  sphere,  may  be  a 
veritable  virago  in  practice.  Apart  from  certain 
legal  disabilities  which  no  longer  represent  either 
wisdom  or  justice,  and  which  demand  appropriate 
modification,  the  husband's  authority  has  had  to 
adjust  itself  to  a  recognition  of  the  equal  rights  and 
interests  of  the  wife,  so  much  so  that,  with  the  ex- 
ception noted,  the  debate  has  practically  become  a 
verbal  affair  of  no  real  interest.  As  the  moral 
reason  develops  there  must  be  a  growing  refusal  to 
recognize,  or  exercise,  any  authority  other  than  that 
of  right  reason  itself.  As  the  converse  of  this  fact, 
the  notion  of  the  husband's  authority  finds  its  stout- 
est defenders  among  savages.  If  we  suppose  the 
husband  and  wife  to  be  equally  and  fundamentally 
moral  persons,  then,  while  jDhysiological  and  ana- 
tomical differences  may  determine  the  form  and 
sphere  of  their  respective  duties,  they  can  found  no 
difference  of  rights,  except  as  they  are  related  to 
those  duties. 

Marriage,  like  all  other  human  institutions,  shares 
in  the  imperfection  of  humanity.  For  perfect  mar- 
riages we  need  perfect  men  and  women.  Until  we 
get  them,  marriage  will  be  relatively  imperfect. 
This  fact  will  long  give  voluble  and  conscienceless 


244  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

persons  of  the  Yahoo  type  a  chance  to  declaim  on 
the  failure  of  marriage.  What  they  would  put  in 
its  place  is  left  to  easy  surmise.  With  such  per- 
sons marriage  is  of  course  a  failure,  and  for  the 
ohvious  reason  that  they  themselves  are  failures. 
The  earnest  and  thoughtful,  however,  who  are  still 
the  salt  of  the  earth,  will  always  insist  on  determin- 
ing the  ideal  and  the  laws  of  marriage  in  accord- 
ance, not  with  the  demands  of  passion,  but  with  the 
interests  of  rationalized  and  moralized  humanity. 

The  mutual  duties  of  parents  and  children  cannot 
be  deduced  from  their  physical  relations.  The  par- 
ents are  not  such  absolute  creators  as  to  have  un- 
limited power  over  their  children.  Historically, 
indeed,  such  jDOwer  has  been  claimed,  at  least  for 
the  father.  In  fact,  however,  human  action  in 
generation  is  only  the  occasion  upon  which  a  power 
not  themselves  introduces  new  souls  into  being, 
which  new  souls,  like  the  parents  themselves,  have 
a  moral  task  to  perform  and  a  moral  ideal  to  realize. 
Hence  every  patria  j^ofestas  which  claims  a  right 
over  the  life  of  the  children,  or  even  a  right  to  con- 
trol them  beyond  a  certain  period,  is  a  wholly  un- 
tenable notion.  On  the  contrar}^,  the  rights  of  the 
children,  at  least  in  early  life,  are  much  more  evi- 
dent than  the  rights  of  the  parents.  It  is  the  un- 
doubted duty  of  the  parents  to  provide  not  merely 
for  the  present  subsistence  of  the  children,  but  also 
such  education,  physical,  mental,  and  industrial,  as 
shall  fit  them  to  enter  upon  the  struggle  for  ex- 
istence under   as  favorable  conditions  as  possible. 


THE   ETHICS   OF   THE   FAMILY  245 

Modern  law  has  had  to  emphasize  the  duties  of 
parents  rather  than  their  rights,  and  has  also  had 
to  interfere  in  many  cases  to  secure  the  perform- 
ance of  the  duties.  This  has  been  especially  the 
case  in  the  matter  of  education,  and  of  the  exploit- 
ation of  children's  labor  by  ignorant  and  selfish 
parents. 

Of  highest  importance  is  the  duty  of  parents  to 
regard  the  growing  independence  of  the  children. 
It  is  fairly  hard  for  parents  to  recognize  that  their 
children  are  to  become  independent,  self-directing, 
moral  beings.  This  is  particularly  the  case  with 
the  more  thoughtful  and  affectionate  among  parents. 
They  would  keep  the  children  children,  in  order 
that  they  may  possess  and  protect  them.  Hence 
there  is  a  failure  to  recognize  and  encourage  self- 
reliance.  In  this  way  damage  is  done  to  the  chil- 
dren and  to  society,  and  the  aim  itself  is  not  reached. 
Under  such  circumstances  the  unfolding  will  which 
feels  a  strong  impulse  to  realize  itself  secures  its 
recognition  in  the  family  only  by  a  measure  of 
obstinacy,  which  sometimes  borders  on  revolt  and  is 
harmful  to  all  concerned.  But  even  this  result  is 
better  than  the  opposite,  where  weakness  of  will 
and  lack  of  resource  and  self-reliance  perpetuate 
infancy  into  the  years  of  maturity. 

On  the  other  hand,  the  duty  of  children  to  obey 
their  parents  while  under  their  control,  except  in 
cases  of  conscience,  to  respect  and  honor  them  al- 
ways, and  to  provide  for  their  support  in  case  of 
need,  is  too  evident  to  call  for  more  than  mention. 
Equally  needless  is  it  to  specify  in  detail  the  duties 


246  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

and  rights  pertaining  to  the  relations  of  the  family. 
The  ideal  of  the  family  is  seldom  realized,  and  hid- 
eous caricatures,  or  rather  desecrations,  abound; 
yet  after  all  it  is  the  best  thing  our  poor  race  has 
to  show.  Nevertheless,  an  exclusive  family  life 
would  not  suffice  for  a  perfect  mental  and  moral 
development.  It  is  too  narrow  for  full  mental  de- 
velopment. A  set  of  ideas  are  repeated,  and  tra- 
ditional customs  are  mistaken  for  universal  truths 
and  sacred  obligations.  The  atmosphere  of  home 
is  also  somewhat  relaxing  to  the  sentiments  of  jus- 
tice and  righteousness,  and  a  sterner  air  is  needed 
to  bring  them  out  in  their  strength.  Much  is  borne 
which  ought  not  to  be  endured,  and  often  much  is 
blamed  which  deserves  no  blame.  Through  this 
mental  limitation  of  the  family  circle  both  mental 
narrowness  and  unjust  jDrejudices  are  produced.  A 
certain  immaturity  of  character  and  lack  of  self- 
reliance  are  also  a  common  result  of  an  exclusive 
home  life.  We  need  the  life  of  the  family  and  we 
need  the  larger  life  of  society.  Hence  the  limits  of 
the  family  must  be  transcended,  and  men  must 
meet  on  the  open  field  of  the  world,  not  as  relatives 
but  as  men.  This  mental  and  moral  need  is  re-en- 
forced by  our  social  nature  also,  and  by  historical 
necessity;  and  thus  the  higher  social  institutions 
are  born. 


CHAPTER  X 

THE  ETHICS   OP  SOCIETY 

Human  beings  exist  not  merely  as  an  aggregate 
of  individuals,  or  as  members  of  families,  but  also 
as  members  of  a  social  organism  which  assumes  to 
control  and,  if  need  be,  to  restrain  and  coerce  the 
individual.  This  is  the  next  great  institution  of 
humanity. 

Tliis  organism  is  variously  called  society,  the  state, 
the  nation.  The  last  term  is  somewhat  ambiguous, 
as  it  often  has  linguistic  and  racial  connotations 
which  distinguish  it  from  the  state.  This  is  partic- 
ularly the  case  at  present,  when  the  demand  is  so 
often  heard  for  the  construction  of  states  according 
to  the  principle  of  nationality.  As  it  is,  the  state 
often  comprises  several  nationalities.  Of  the  other 
terms,  the  state  is  more  commonly  used,  but  society 
has  the  advantage  of  suggesting  that  the  state  is 
not  a  something  by  itself,  but  only  an  organization 
of  human  beings,  and  that  power  must  finally  em- 
anate from  the  people.  Besides,  many  things  are 
true  of  society,  as  the  community  of  persons,  which 
are  not  true  of  the  actual  state.  Thus  the  interests 
of  society  may  involve  the  overthrow  of  the  state, 
as  in  the  case  of  the  petty  states  of  Germany  and 
Italy.  For  the  present,  then,  we  shall  speak  of  so- 
ciety rather  than  the  state. 

247 


248  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

Human  activities  fall  into  two  classes,  individual 
and  social.  In  the  latter  case  men  work  together 
under  the  forms  of  law  and  government,  and  suljor- 
dinate  the  individual  to  these  forms.  As  thus 
co-working  they  are  more  than  an  aggregate  of 
individuals;  they  are  an  organized  community, 
which  has  authority  over  the  individual,  and  powers 
not  entrusted  to  any  individual.  This  organism  we 
call  society,  and  our  aim  is  to  consider  the  ethical 
ideas  which  underlie  it.  It  is  no  part  of  this  aim 
to  treat  of  any  particular  government,  or  of  the 
historical  development  of  society. 

This  limitation  of  the  inquiry  is  all  the  more 
permissible  from  the  fact  that,  without  some  ideal 
standard,  neither  criticism  nor  history  tends  to  edi- 
fication. It  is  also  no  objection  that  society,  in 
distinction  from  some  actual  government,  with  its 
peculiar  forms  and  laws,  has  never  existed.  The 
abstractions  of  mechanics  nowhere  and  never  exist, 
yet  phj^'sical  science  is  based  on  them.  In  like 
manner  it  is  of  use  to  form  the  abstraction  of  so- 
ciety for  the  sake  of  considering  it  in  its  ideal  and 
examining  its  ethical  grounds  and  warrant.  In 
this  way  we  get  a  standard  for  measuring  actual 
societies  and  governments.  Napoleon  said  that  the 
"  ideologists, "  by  whom  he  meant  the  abstract  polit- 
ical theorists,  had  destroyed  France;  but  there 
would  have  been  no  destruction  but  for  the  abom- 
inations of  the  old  regime. 

A  great  social  development  is  conceivable  with- 
out the  existence  of  government.     There  are  great 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  249 

fundamental  rights  and  interests  which  jirecede 
government,  and  which  society  therefore  may  de- 
fend but  does  not  found.  These  concern  especially 
property,  the  family,  contract,  and  the  security  of 
the  individual.  It  is  conceivable  that  in  certain 
stages  of  moral  and  mental  development  these  in- 
terests should  need  no  defence.  If  men  had  perfect 
insight  and  good  will  there  would  be  no  need  of 
society  as  a  restraining  or  coercing  power.  There 
would  be  wisdom  to  understand  the  conditions  of 
life  and  the  common  good,  and  there  would  be  the 
will  to  co-operate  in  securing  it.  Society,  as  an 
aggregate  of  individuals,  would  meet  all  the  de- 
mands of  personal  and  social  development.  Out  of 
their  interaction  with  the  social  and  physical  en- 
vironment, the  social  order  and  mechanism  would 
arise  without  any  governmental  intervention. 
Even  as  it  is,  economical,  intellectual,  and  spiritual 
interests  generally  flourish  better  when  left  to  indi- 
viduals and  voluntary  organization  than  when  un- 
dertaken by  the  state.  Such  a  society  would  be 
anarchic  and  lawless,  not  indeed  in  the  sense  of 
being  a  prey  to  riotous  disorder,  but  in  the  sense  of 
having  no  external  law  and  authority,  owing  to  the 
sufficiency  of  the  law  within.  In  this  sense  anarchy 
might  be  said  to  be  the  ideal  state  of  social  exis- 
tence.    It  would  be  the  millennium. 

But  existing  human  beings  are  not  of  this  sort. 
However  much  the  functions  of  government  may 
have  been  exaggerated,  and  however  damaging  to 
the  interests  of  the  community  actual  governments 
may  have  been,  some  measure  of  government  is  a 


250  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

necessity  to  human  existence.  Men  lack  insight, 
and  in  their  ignorance  they  often  contrive  to  poison 
the  wells  of  the  common  life.  They  are  selfish 
also,  and  are  all  too  willing  to  set  their  egoistic 
aims  above  the  common  weal.  They  likewise  lack 
good  will,  and  not  a  few  are  always  ready  to  plun- 
der their  fellows  in  one  w^ay  or  another.  Passion 
and  selfishness,  too,  prevent  any  impartial  estimate 
of  their  own  rights  and  wrongs;  so  that  any  at- 
tempt to  adjust  them  by  the  individuals  themselves 
is  likely  to  result  in  unending  feuds.  Again,  in 
many  most  important  economical  imdertakings  an 
authority  above  the  individual  is  often  necessary 
to  make  them  possible.  On  all  these  accounts 
there  is  needed  among  men  a  suiDcrvising,  restrain- 
ing, and  coercing  power,  which  shall  have  the 
function  of  defending  rights,  repressing  wrongs, 
and  securing  the  common  weal.  To  guard  the 
individual  in  his  natural  rights,  to  secure  the  im- 
partial and  passionless  administration  of  justice,  to 
restrain  lawlessness  and  violence,  and  to  conserve 
the  public  good — this  is  its  fundamental  function. 
This  power  may  exist  in  a  variety  of  governmental 
forms,  from  the  simple  patriarchal  form  to  the 
complex  structure  of  a  great  modern  state,  but  the 
essential  idea  is  the  same  in  all  forms.  Historically, 
of  course,  this  ideal  has  been  very  imperfectly  real- 
ized in  the  great  majority  of  states.  Nevertheless, 
it  has  been  implicit  in  all  history.  It  is  the  only 
conception  which  ethics  can  admit,  and  it  is  the 
one  toward  which  all  political  development  has  been 
slowly  moving. 


THE  ETHICS   OF  SOCIETY  251 

Society,  then,  as  a  governing  organism,  is  no 
human  invention  or  arbitrary  imposition,  but  arises 
necessarily  from  the  form  and  nature  of  our  exis- 
tence. The  family  itself  would  lead  to  it,  if  all 
other  hints  were  lacking.  The  fiction  of  the  politi- 
cal writers  of  the  last  century  concerning  an  orig- 
inal social  compact  whereby  society  was  first  con- 
stituted is  utterly  groundless.  Such  a  fiction  might 
be  of  use  in  illustrating  the  claim  that  power  is 
from  the  people,  and  in  showing  the  baselessness  of 
existing  despotisms ;  and  indeed  it  served  this  pur- 
pose admirably,  and  proved  a  most  potent  solvent 
of  belief  in  the  divine  right  of  tyrants  and  privi- 
leged classes.  But,  historically,  government  in 
some  form,  at  least  embryonic,  is  contemporaneous 
with  humanity. 

Again,  the  social  order  is  no  arbitrary  imposition 
of  violence.  Back  of  both  the  individual  and  the 
collective  will  is  the  fixed  nature  of  things,  the 
moral  law,  the  natural  rights  of  the  person,  and 
the  constitution  of  the  objective  world ;  and  all  that 
men  or  nations  do  must  finally  be  referred  to  these 
as  their  warrant  and  foundation.  These  constitute 
the  law  of  nature,  that  higher  law,  antecedent  and 
fundamental  to  all  statute  law,  which  has  always 
haunted  human  thinking  in  this  field ;  and  so  far  as 
society  departs  from  this  law  it  loses  all  justifica- 
tion. When  society  banishes  Aristides,  condemns 
Socrates  to  drink  the  hemlock,  and  orders  a  Bar- 
tholomew massacre,  it  is  condemned  of  God  and  man. 

Society,  then,  is  not  to  be  conceived  as  a  rule  of 
the  strong  over  the  weak,  nor  as  a  tyranny  of  the 


252  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

majority  over  the  minority,  but  as  a  subordination 
of  all,  ruler  and  ruled  alike,  to  the  highest  common 
good.  This  it  is  which  constitutes  society  a  moral 
institution  and  gives  it  all  its  majesty  and  author- 
ity. It  is  not  a  necessary  evil ;  in  its  idea  it  is  not 
an  evil  at  all,  but  an  incarnation  of  beneficent  right- 
eousness. 

The  claim  that  society  is  based  on  simple  might 
is  only  too  true  of  very  many  historical  formations. 
It  is  as  a  theoretical  truth  that  Vve  reject  it.  On 
the  other  hand,  many  have  been  so  impressed  by 
the  beauty  and  majesty  of  the  ideal  of  society  as 
an  incarnation  of  the  moral  order  of  the  world  that 
they  have  overlooked  its  instrumental  character 
altogether,  and  have  erected  it  into  the  great  end 
of  human  development.  The  individual  is  only 
the  material  for  filling  out  the  social  form,  which, 
in  turn,  has  supreme  value  in  itself.  Against  this 
view  we  must  point  out  that,  after  all,  the  individual 
is  the  only  concrete  reality  in  the  case,  and  that  all 
social  forms,  of  whatever  kind,  must  be  judged  by 
their  relation  to  the  realizing  of  personal  life.  The 
family,  the  state,  the  church  have  no  value  or 
sacredness  in  themselves,  but  only  in  their  securing 
the  highest  good  for  living  persons.  At  the  same 
time,  as  instrumental  necessities,  they  may  have 
all  the  authority  of  life  and  the  moral  nature  itself. 
Hence  the  individual  is  justly  coerced  by  society 
within  its  sphere.  There  is  no  help  for  it.  We 
have  to  live  together,  and  society  enforces  the  con- 
ditions of  living  together.  To  this  extent  natural 
rights  must  be  limited,  and  to  this  extent  any  lim- 


THE  ETHICS   OF  SOCIETY  253 

itation  is  justified.  If  every  one  could  have  a  world 
to  liimself,  one  might  in  the  exercise  of  his  liberty 
withdraw  from  society,  but  as  it  is  every  one  is  born 
in  society — is  to  a  very  large  extent  the  creature  of 
society,  and  is  rightly  made  responsible  to  society. 
But  we  shall  make  no  progress  in  this  matter  so  long 
as  we  hold  the  individual  and  society  apart  in  unreal 
abstraction.  If  we  determine  the  rights  of  the  indi- 
vidual with  reference  to  society,  we  must  equally  de- 
termine the  rights  of  society  with  reference  to  the 
individual.  The  prosperity  of  each  is  bound  up  in  the 
well-being  of  the  other.  To  adjust  the  claims  of 
each  so  that  the  best  result  shall  be  attained  for 
both  is  the  problem  of  problems  in  political  science. 
But  while  the  social  order  exists  only  for  per- 
sons, it  does  not  exist  for  any  one  class  of  persons. 
In  order  to  get  any  sufficient  moral  foundation 
for  social  authority,  we  must  maintain  utter  im- 
partiality of  social  action,  neither  allowing  the 
rich  to  oppress  the  poor  nor  the  poor  to  plunder 
the  rich,  but  maintaining  order  and  equal  jus- 
tice for  and  among  all  classes.  Only  on  this 
foundation  can  social  equilibrium  be  assured. 
In  a  world  of  conflicting  interests  and  selfishness, 
men  can  agree  only  on  justice.  Impartiality  and 
impersonal  justice  appeal  to  all  of  us,  and  if  we 
cannot  have  our  own  way  we  prefer  justice  to  let- 
ting others  have  their  way.  A  conflict  of  selfish 
interests  can  never  be  solved  on  the  plane  of  selfish- 
ness, but  only  on  the  plane  of  equal  justice;  and 
thus  selfishness  itself  is  made  to  contribute  to  the 
maintenance  of  an  order  of  justice.     For,  as  just 


254  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

said,  the  second  choice  of  every  one,  no  matter  how 
selfish,  is  justice  and  impartiahty ;  and  as  we  can- 
not agree  on  our  first  choice,  our  own  private  scheme, 
justice  gets  the  majority  of  votes.  So  far  as  par- 
tiahty  exists  society  is  an  organized  iniquity,  an 
instrument  of  f)lunder  and  oppression.  Historical- 
ly, this  has  too  often  been  the  case.  The  social 
mechanism  has  been  seized  and  worked  in  the  in- 
terests  of  a  few  or  of  a  class,  and  not  in  the  inter- 
ests of  humanity.  Privileged  classes,  monopolies, 
robber  tariffs,  class  legislation  illustrate.  In  such 
a  state  of  things  society  is  at  best  in  unstable 
equilibrium. 

The  internal  order  of  society  admits  of  no  apriori 
deduction.  It  unfolds  only  as  experience  reveals 
the  necessity.  Accordingly  we  have  society  in  all 
stages  of  complexity,  from  the  simjDle  patriarchal 
and  tribal  organization  to  the  highly  complex  sys- 
tem of  modern  civilization.  Concerning  this  order 
ethics  insists  only  that  it  shall  minister  to  the  com- 
mon good  in  the  most  effective  way.  The  actual 
social  order  in  most  countries  has  not  been  the  out- 
come of  purely  moral  and  rational  considerations,  but 
a  great  multitude  of  historical  influences  of  a  much 
less  exalted  sort  have  entered  into  the  result.  War 
and  conquest  have  left  abiding  marks  on  the  social 
structure  in  many  places  in  the  shape  of  aristocra- 
cies, favored  classes,  and  all  sorts  of  caste  distinctions. 
Such  arrangements  win  more  approval  from  the 
favored  classes  than  from  the  impartial  reason.  In 
the  societies  also  whose  inner  structure  is  most 
rational,  there  is  indefinite  room  for  improvement. 


THE  ETHICS  OP  SOCIETY  255 

The  dividing  line  between  the  independence  of 
the  individual  and  his  subordination  to  society  can- 
not be  theoretically  drawn  except  for  hypothetical 
beings  and  in  a  hypothetical  way.  No  formula  can 
be  devised  which  by  simple  analysis  will  give  us 
the  best  result  for  real  men.  The  solution  of  the 
problem  must  always  be  relative  to  the  measure  of 
social  and  individual  development ;  and,  moreover, 
it  will  never  be  found  by  any  apriori  speculation, 
but  by  a  careful  study  of  experience  past  and 
present.  In  this  way  closer  and  closer  approxima- 
tions may  be  made  to  the  ideally  best.  Doctrinaires 
of  course  seek  after  a  formula  which  will  solve  the 
problems  of  political  philosophy  once  for  all,  but  we 
are  about  through  with  them.  Two  things,  form- 
ally contradictory,  are  to  be  maintained,  the  free- 
dom and  the  subordination  of  the  individual.  The 
practical  compromise  which  shall  recognize  and 
conciliate  both  must  be  found  in  life  rather  than 
speculation. 

If  we  ask  theoretically  what  society  may  do,  the 
answer  is  that  society  may  do  anything  which  does 
not  conflict  with  moral  principles  and  the  common 
good.  Beyond  all  human  law  is  the  moral  law  and 
the  common  weal,  regard  for  which  is  due  from 
both  society  and  individuals.  These  constitute  the 
aim  and  the  limit  of  all  social  action. 

Again,  if  we  ask  theoretically  what  the  individ- 
ual may  do,  the  answer  must  be  mucli  the  same. 
The  individual  may  do  anything  which  does  not 
conflict  with  good  morals  and  the  conditions  of  a 
common  life.     This  is  the  limit  of  personal  action. 


256  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

Ethics  can  recognize  no  arbitrary,  irrational,  and 
immoral  freedom  on  the  part  of  any  one.  It  is 
ethically  absurd  to  set  up  a  claim  to  a  right  to  do 
wrong.  It  is  only  as  the  action  is  ethically  per- 
missible, or  as  our  aims  are  normal  and  ethical, 
that  the  right  to  freedom  has  any  sacredness. 
Human  beings  apart  from  the  moral  personality 
and  the  moral  purpose  have  no  more  rights  than  the 
cattle.  That  one  knave  should  cheat  another,  or 
one  thief  should  rob  another,  or  one  assassin  should 
slay  another,  would  matter  no  more  than  that  one 
viper  should  destroy  another.  In  each  case  it  would 
be  a  subject  less  for  grief  than  for  congratulation, 
especially  if  the  result  were  mutual  extinction.  If 
there  were  any  action  of  the  individual  which  had 
no  social  bearing  whatever,  it  might  be  a  question 
how  far  he  might  be  hindered  therein,  even  if  it 
were  immoral;  but  there  is  no  such  action.  No 
one  can  possibly  be  wicked  or  mischievous  unto 
himself  alone.  Ethics,  therefore,  can  make  noth- 
ing of  personal  liberty  which  is  found  in  the  ways 
of  folly  and  unrighteousness.  On  the  contrary, 
ethics  must  protest  against  the  view  of  liberty 
which  would  identify  it  with  license  and  make  it 
an  end  in  itself,  instead  of  the  indispensable  means 
for  realizing  moralized  humanity. 

Hence  public  and  private  action  alike  must  be 
conditioned  by  a  moral  reference.  It  is,  then,  no 
longer  the  theoretical  question  what  society  may 
do,  but  rather  the  practical  one,  what  society  can 
wisely  do.  If  society  could  effect  the  reform  of  the 
individual,  or  could  secure  his  personal  righteous- 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  257 

ness,  there  need  be  no  question  as  to  its  right  to  do 
it.  But  society  cannot  do  everything.  Somethings 
are  better  done  in  the  authoritative  form  of  govern- 
mental action ;  others  are  better  done  when  left  to 
the  individual  and  to  voluntary  association ;  and 
some  things  cannot  be  done  by  society  at  all.  The 
best  division  of  labor  between  individuals  and  so- 
ciety must  be  learned  from  reflection  upon  expe- 
rience, rather  than  from  any  apriori  theories  of 
rights.  The  verbal  formulas  for  solving  this  prob- 
lem which  abound  are  all  practically  barren.  The 
sacred  thing  is  the  common  good,  in  which  of  course 
the  individual  must  impartially  share;  and  what- 
ever conflicts  with  this  must  be  set  aside.  In  any 
case,  the  best  division  of  labor  for  one  phase  of  de- 
velopment is  not  likely  to  be  the  best  for  another. 
Any  great  change  in  the  social  condition  is  likely 
to  compel  a  revision  of  the  matter,  and  provided 
the  revision  be  impartially  made,  in  the  interests 
of  all  and  not  of  a  class,  the  individual  will  have  to 
submit  to  it,  just  as  in  time  of  war  he  has  to  submit 
to  martial  law. 

The  discussion  of  this  question  has  been  obscured 
by  several  causes,  notably  by  an  excessive  individ- 
ualism and  by  a  set  of  abstractions  mistaken  for 
realities.  The  individualism  is  partly  a  reaction 
against  the  complete  subjection  of  the  person  which 
is  a  necessity  of  embryonic  societies  and  a  favorite 
with  both  despotic  and  paternal  governments.  It  is 
also  partly  an  echo  of  the  ideas  of  the  social  contract. 

This  echo  is  perceptible  in  a  great  deal  of  our 
political  philosophy.     The  individual  is  haunted  by 

17 


258  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

the  notion  of  reserved  rights,  and  at  times  even 
dreams  of  seceding  from  the  community.  Under 
the  influence  of  such  notions  some  would  restrict 
society  to  the  performance  of  police  duty.  It  may 
not  insist  upon  any  measure  of  education  for  the 
individual,  or  in  any  way  interfere  with  the  inalien- 
able right  of  the  individual  to  remain  in  absolute 
ignorance.  If  the  state  provide  any  education  it 
must  not  go  beyond  the  merest  rudiments,  and  even 
that  can  be  done  only  under  j^rotest  from  bache- 
lors and  other  childless  tax-payers.  Laws  against 
cruelty  to  children  on  the  part  of  ignorant  and 
brutal  parents  have  seemed  to  some  doctrinaires 
an  insufferable  violation  of  parental  rights,  as  if 
parents  had  any  rights  of  the  kind.  But  this  sort 
of  thing  is  obsolescent  and  almost  obsolete.  The 
whim  of  the  social  contract  did  a  good  service 
against  the  ancient  despotisms,  whether  of  kings 
or  classes,  but  at  present  it  can  only  be  regarded  as 
a  survival  of  the  unfit.  The  social  order  makes  the 
individual  possible.  Even  the  self-made  man  de- 
pends on  society  for  the  conditions  of  his  creation. 
Natural  rights,  therefore,  which  are  looking  toward 
immorality  and  a  shirking  of  those  social  duties 
upon  which  the  common  good  depends,  are  very 
properly  ignored  by  the  community.  Society  must 
refuse  to  be  bound  by  anything  but  the  common 
weal.  Whatever  conflicts  with  this,  supposed  nat- 
ural rights,  constitutions,  words  and  verbal  exegeses 
of  verbal  formulas,  must  be  set  aside.  All  of  these 
have  to  be  interpreted,  not  by  the  dictionary  nor  by 
abstract  theories,  but  in  accordance  with  the  present 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  259 

and  concrete  conditions  of  existence.  The  imbecility 
of  saving  the  constitution  by  the  destruction  of  the 
nation  is  no  longer  admired. 

The  abstractions  referred  to  as  causing  confusion 
have  appeared  especially  in  the  field  of  economics. 
Here  the  moral  foundation  and  meaning  of  the 
social  structure  have  been  largely  overlooked,  and 
a  single  aspect  of  life  has  been  taken  for  the  whole. 
The  production  of  material  wealth  has  been  set  up 
as  the  supreme  aim,  and  an  economic  man  with 
only  selfish  interests  has  been  invented.  This  noble 
being,  who  is  not  without  his  uses  as  an  abstraction, 
has  next  been  mistaken  for  the  real  man;  and  a  deal 
of  profoundly  inhuman  and  immoral  speculation  has 
resulted.  "Iron  laws"  in  abundance  have  been 
discovered,  the  conclusion  always  being  that  man 
must  be  sacrificed  to  production. 

Happily  we  are  getting  beyond  this  to  some  ex- 
tent, and  are  coming  to  see  both  its  wickedness  and 
its  folly.  Humanity,  not  material  production,  is 
the  aim;  and  any  cheapening  of  production  secured 
by  a  cheapening  of  humanity  is  unlawful  morally, 
and  economically  it  defeats  itself  in  the  long  run. 
With  this  insight  a  moralizing  and  humanizing  of 
the  conditions  of  production  are  slowly  setting  in. 
Society  is  gradually  learning  that  it  must  defend 
itself  against  the  ignorance  and  rapacity  of  the 
individual ;  and  gradually  is  learning  how  to  do  it. 
As  long  as  this  control  is  exercised  for  the  common 
welfare,  and  really  furthers  it,  it  will  be  justified 
more  and  more.  At  the  same  time  a  long  experi- 
ence warns  us  to  make  haste  slowly.     Social  inter- 


260  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

ests  are  far  more  complex  than  the  doctrinaire  ever 
suspects,  and  quackery  here  is  especially  dangerous. 
The  "ideologist"  is  a  real  menace  unless  he  have 
practical  wisdom,  or  is  held  in  check  by  others  who 
have  it.  In  particular,  man  himself  is  complex 
and  not  always  adapted  to  the  schemes  provided  for 
him.  Oversight  of  this  fact  is  the  perennial  short- 
coming of  social  reformers.  They  dream  a  dream 
of  what  would  be  fine  if  we  only  had  it,  and  think 
it  easy  to  bring  in  the  millennium  by  an  act  of  the 
legislature.  This  supreme  faith  in  the  power  of 
legislation  is  a  fit  companion-piece  to  the  oj^posite 
view  that  law  can  do  nothing. 

This  faith  in  the  omnipotence  of  law,  without 
regard  to  human  nature,  is  the  most  disturbing 
factor  in  the  current  socialistic  agitation.  No  one 
can  regard  the  actual  situation  as  ideal.  The  world 
is  full  of  want  and  distress  on  the  one  hand,  and  of 
heartless  extravagance  on  the  other.  The  world-old 
methods  of  securing  social  reform  by  reforming 
individuals  are  thought  all  too  slow.  Something 
more  direct  and  speedy  is  needed.  Such  contem- 
plations have  led  to  a  widespread  dissatisfaction 
with  the  structure  of  society  itself  as  being  too 
individualistic,  and  to  a  demand  for  its  reform  on 
a  socialistic  basis.  Law,  of  course,  is  to  be  the 
great  instrument  of  transformation. 

Schemes  of  this  sort  have  been  favorites  with 
speculative  minds  since  the  time  of  Plato ;  and  in 
general  they  have  had  a  lofty  moral  aim.  Unfort- 
unately they  have  been  caricatured  by  bloodthirsty 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  201 

and  demented  hangers-on,  but  this  should  not  con- 
ceal the  fact  that  socialism  may  have  an  aim 
essentially  Christian.  The  police  will  conduct  the 
argument  with  the  hangers-on  mentioned ;  the  re- 
maining argument  belongs  to  economics  and  sociol- 
ogy. The  general  difficulty  with  socialism  of  the 
permissible  type  is  that  it  pui'sues  a  laudable  end  ' 
by  unwise  or  destructive  methods.  We  have  often 
pointed  out  that  it  is  not  enough  to  mean  well. 
Our  methods  must  take  some  account  of  the  nature 
of  things  if  we  are  to  succeed. 

The  details  of  this  discussion  belong  to  economics, 
and  hence  we  content  ourselves  with  a  few  sugges- 
tions. It  is  needful  first  of  all  to  make  clear  to 
ourselves  that  the  inequalities  and  evils  found  in 
society  are  by  no  means  all  due  to  society  itself. 
To  begin  with,  there  is  an  inequality  of  power  and 
faculty  in  the  constitution  of  man,  and  no  legisla- 
tion in  the  world  can  ever  remove  this  and  its  con- 
sequences. Equality,  except  in  the  sense  of  one 
law  for  all  and  impartiality  in  its  administration, 
is  an  idle  dream.  Whether  it  be  in  itself  desirable 
is  highly  questionable,  but  in  any  case  society  can 
as  little  produce  it,  as  it  can  enable  a  rhinoceros  to 
sing,  or  legislate  a  cat  into  a  lion. 

A  very  large  part  of  the  remaining  evil  is  to  be 
traced  to  idleness,  ignorance,  and  vice.  Evil  attends 
these  as  their  punishment.  The  most  beneficent 
feature  in  the  moral  order  is  that  which  puts  a  pre- 
mium on  prudence,  skill,  and.  character,  and  serves 
a  writ  of  ejection  on  idleness,  ignorance,  and 
animalism. 


262  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

In  a  study  of  the  inequalities  of  fortune  vre  should 
also  need  to  inquire  whether  they  spring  from  in- 
justice, and  especially  from  an  unjust  social  order. 
That  the  riches  of  one  should  mean  the  poverty  of 
another  would  be  something  to  inquire  into,  but 
that  one  should  grow  rich  while  another  remains 
poor  is  something  at  which  only  envy  could  take 
offence.  A  great  fortune  amassed  through  a  great 
invention  like  the  Bessemer  process,  or  by  any  great 
public  service  like  the  organization  of  transj)orta- 
tion,  which  not  only  leaves  the  community  no  poorer 
but  rather  greatly  enriches  it,  is  no  ground  for  just 
complaint.  If  in  addition  such  fortune  is  in  the 
main  used  in  productive  operations  whereby  the 
community  is  further  served,  we  have  only  cause 
for  congratulation.  Weak  heads  are  apt  to  heat 
themselves  with  the  fancy  that  the  wealth  of  the 
rich  is  somehow  taken  from  the  poor,  and  that 
they  personally  have  been  plundered,  a  delusion  in 
which  they  are  often  encouraged  by  our  amateur 
reformers. 

The  chief  place  where  a  question  of  this  sort  can 
arise  is  in  the  sharing  of  the  products  resulting 
from  the  co-operation  of  capital  and  labor.  But 
here,  too,  no  principle  has  been  reached  which  can 
be  used  for  a  ready  solution  of  all  problems.  To 
say  that  labor  is  the  source  of  all  values  is  unfruit- 
ful in  any  concrete  case,  until  we  decide  whose  labor 
and  what  labor  have  produced  the  given  product. 
In  many  cases  the  manual  labor,  which  assumes 
to  be  the  creative  agent,  is  the  least  important  fac- 
tor.    The  most  important  is  the  organizing  mind. 


THE   ETHICS   OP   SOCIETY  263 

The  inventive  brain  that  produced  the  machinery  is 
the  next.  That  capital  will  take  no  risks  without 
a  promise  of  gain  is  evident.  That  a  share  in  the 
profits  without  a  share  in  the  losses  is  a  rather 
one-sided  arrangement  is  plain  on  the  face  of  it. 
Co-operation  in  production  would  l^e  a  handsome 
solution  of  the  difficulty,  but  the  necessary  brains 
and  character  are  hard  to  find. 

Again,  in  such  an  inquiry  into  social  evils  it  is 
not  sufficient  to  discover  evils ;  we  must  also  inquire 
whether  there  be  any  legal  or  economic  remedy. 
Multitudinous  evils  exist  for  which  there  is  no  such 
remedy.  Laziness,  shif tlessness,  selfishness  are  very 
grave  evils,  but  what  can  we  do  about  it?  The 
survival  of  the  fittest,  the  appeal  to  conscience,  and 
the  slow  formation  of  public  opinion  are  our  only 
resource.  It  would  certainly  tend  to  j^rogress  if 
our  social  reformers  were  compelled  for  a  while  to 
devote  themselves  to  suggesting  the  legal  or  eco- 
nomic remedy  for  the  evils  with  which  we  are  all 
familiar.  Then  w^e  should  have  something  to  talk 
to,  and  not  simply  talk. 

And  some  of  them  have  a  remedy.  Exasperated 
and  demented  by  the  difficulties  of  the  problem,  so 
long  as  the  present  social  system  exists,  they  have 
thought  to  find  a  final  exorcism  of  all  social  ills  in 
doing  away  with  individualism  altogether  and  put- 
ting the  state  in  charge  of  both  production  and 
distribution.  Anything  short  of  this  must  be  in- 
efficient. Co-operation  is  a  makeshift.  Not  men, 
but  the  system,  is  at  fault.  Individualism,  there- 
fore, and  its  implication,  competition,  must  vanish; 


264  PEINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

and  the  instruments  and  forces  of  production  must 
pass  into  the  hands  of  the  state. 

The  best  thing  about  this  view  is  the  clear  insight 
into  the  worthlessness  of  all  the  familiar  socialistic 
cure-alls ;  but  its  holders  have  never  thought  it  out, 
whether  in  its  economic  bearings,  in  its  internal 
organization,  or  in  its  adaptation  to  men  as  we  find 
them.  If  it  diminished  production  we  should  have 
less  to  divide.  If  it  rewarded  all  service  alike  it 
would  produce  heart-burnings  and  injustice.  If  it 
did  not  direct  production  there  would  be  no  security 
against  wasted  effort.  If  it  did  direct  it  we  should 
need  a  very  wise  central  authority  and  very  submis- 
sive subjects.  That  we  should  have  either  is  highly 
improbable.  As  to  its  adaptation  to  actual  men, 
nothing  could  be  more  insane  than  the  fancy  that 
society  is  to  be  redeemed  by  removing  the  motives 
to  individual  effort  which  lie  in  private  property 
and  private  ambition.  It  is  pleasant  to  conceive  of 
a  society  where  each  should  exist  for  all,  where  the 
best  should  rule  and  the  rest  should  serve,  where 
the  inventor  should  jDresent  society  with  the  fruits 
of  his  genius,  where  those  of  feeble  powers  should 
thankfully  accept  the  humble  place  assigned  them 
by  the  ruling  powers,  and  where  every  one  should 
have  his  eye  fixed  on  the  public  good.  Unfortu- 
nately the  men  for  such  a  scheme  do  not  exist  on 
this  earth,  and  when  they  do  the  scheme  will  be 
needless.  Meanwhile,  we  shall  have  to  get  on  as 
we  are,  not  only  fixing  our  eyes  on  the  millennium, 
but  now  and  then  taking  some  account  of  human 
nature  itself.      Society  is  not  to  be  redeemed  to 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  205 

order  by  simply  passing  a  law  and  inscribing  on 
the  public  buildings  liberty,  equality,  and  fraternity, 
or  even  by  appointing  a  holiday  in  honor  of  labor. 
For  unluckily  the  ills  of  society,  so  far  as  these  are 
a  human  product,  do  not  spring  from  individualism, 
but  from  selfishness ;  and  for  this  there  is  no  legal 
exorcism.  Not  a  new  order  of  society,  but  a  new 
spirit  in  society,  must  bring  us  relief.  Of  course 
this  does  not  apply  to  cases  where  the  social  order 
is  unjust,  as  where  a  caste  system  prevails,  or  privi- 
leged classes  exist,  or  class  legislation  fetters  the 
individual.  In  such  cases  social  changes  are  im- 
peratively demanded.  But  we  are  writing  for  our 
own  latitude. 

Many  of  our  troubles  are  beyond  human  skill. 
Even  of  those  which  are  amenable  to  treatment  the 
cure  must  necessarily  be  slow.  In  the  mean  time 
much  relief  will  be  found  in  less  showy  ways. 
Prudence,  thrift,  industry,  and  the  ascendancy  of 
the  man  over  the  animal  are  alwavs  safe.  It  will 
help,  too,  if  we  cultivate  the  sense  of  justice  and  a 
regard  for  others'  rights.  The  poor  need  to  do 
this  quite  as  much  as  the  rich.  Witness  the  tyranny 
and  inhumanity  of  labor  unions  toward  non-union- 
ists. We  need  also  to  cultivate  respect  for  essential 
humanity,  both  in  ourselves  and  in  others;  and 
here,  too,  the  poor  are  quite  as  lacking  as  the  rich. 
Men  do  not  respect  themselves,  but  their  accidents 
of  fortune  and  dress.  A  large  part  of  the  heart- 
burnings and  envy  which  curse  us  would  vanish  if 
men  would  only  learn  self-respect.  If  these  sug- 
gestions   were    put    into    practice    the    necessary 


2GG  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

improvements  in  the  social  order  could  be  easily- 
made;  and  until  they  are  put  into  practice  it  is 
doubtful  if  there  is  any  balm  for  the  hurt  of  the 
j)eople  in  the  socialistic  Gilead. 

This,  however,  does  not  mean  that  legislation 
cannot  do  anything,  or  that  society  is  in  no  way 
responsible  for  social  evils.  Legislation  can  do  a 
great  deal  in  the  way  of  protecting  public  interests 
from  j3rivate  rapacity.  There  is  room  for  great 
improvement  in  this  respect.  It  can  also  do  much 
by  establishing  a  lower  limit  to  competition,  so  that 
it  shall  not  result  in  the  destruction  of  women  and 
children  and  in  the  abominations  of  the  sweater's 
den.  Society  must  maintain  the  rights  of  all,  and  an 
impartial  administration  of  law  and  penalty.  Class 
legislation  must  be  avoided,  no  matter  what  the 
class,  and  justice  put  within  the  easy  reach  of  all. 
That  rich  iniquity  should  defeat  injured  poverty  by 
availing  itself  of  the  law's  delay  is  a  crying  abom- 
ination. The  proposal  that  justice  should  be  made 
free  in  civil  as  well  as  in  criminal  cases  deserves 
consideration.  Society  must  also  be  held  responsi- 
ble for  mischiefs  resulting  from  its  own  structure, 
or  from  the  mistakes  of  its  servants.  There  can  be 
no  greater  outrage  than  that  an  innocent  person 
who  has  been  mistakenly  harassed  or  condemned 
should  be  turned  off  without  signal  compensation. 
There  is  great  and  crying  need  of  improvement  in 
these  respects.  Society  also  must  look  after  the 
poor  and  the  sick  who  are  not  otherwise  cared  for. 
It  must  do  this  also  in  a  more  humane  fashion 
than  has  been  the  rule.      Inhumanity  and  brutal- 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  2G7 

ity  on  the  part  of  poorhouse  and  hospital  officials 
ought  to  he  visited  with  severe  punishment. 

But  society  cannot  afford  to  do  anything  which 
will  relieve  the  healthy  individual  from  the  neces- 
sity of  working  out  his  own  salvation.  In  help- 
ing him  the  work  of  society  must  be  indirect, 
and  must  consist  chiefly  in  maintaining  a  public 
order  of  advantages  in  which  he  may  share.  Free 
schools,  public  libraries,  museums,  general  super- 
vision of  the  public  health,  and  maintenance  of  the 
equal  legal  rights  of  all  are  illustrations.  Govern- 
mental action  must  be  confined  within  these  limits, 
at  least  while  the  conditions  of  existence  remain 
approximately  what  they  are.  If  these  should 
greatly  change,  the  range  of  governmental  control 
would  change  also.  On  shipboard  the  liberty  of  the 
individual  is  necessarily  restricted  by  the  community 
of  interest  and  the  exceeding  risk  from  lawlessness. 
If  society  should  ever  reach  the  Malthusian  horror 
we  should  have  something  of  the  same  kind.  But 
we  have  not  reached  it  yet ;  and  for  the  present, 
governmental  action  should  be  confined  within  the 
limits  mentioned.  For  the  multitudinous  evils  which 
lie  beyond  these  limits  there  is  no  legal  remedy. 
AVithout  doubt  the  possession  of  power,  talents, 
riches  imposes  obligation;  but  there  is  no  jural 
way  of  reaching  those  who  do  not  feel  it.  The  slow 
formation  of  conscience,  of  humanity,  and  of  public 
opinion  must  be  our  chief  reliance. 

It  was  very  natural  that  society  should  try  to 
legislate   for    religion.      The   conviction    that   the 


268  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

highest  interests  both  of  the  individual  and  of  soci- 
ety centre  here  would  necessarily  lead,  in  advance 
of  experience,  to  making  religion  the  supreme  care 
of  the  state.  To  secure  a  general  recognition  of 
religion,  to  rescue  its  truths  from  the  ignorance 
of  individual  conceit,  to  maintain  order  and  de- 
cency in  religious  observance,  no  way  seems  more 
promising  than  a  supervision  of  religion  by  the 
state.  And  without  doubt  there  would  be  very 
little  room  for  question  if  society  were  certainly  in 
possession  of  the  truth,  and  if  individuals  w^ere 
freed  from  conceit,  ignorance,  and  wilfulness.  The 
right  is  not  so  clear  when  the  state  religion  is  a 
supei'stition,  or  an  abomination.  And  even  among 
ourselves  experience  has  demonstrated  the  futility 
of  state  religion.  The  abstract  ideal  which  seems  so 
fair  in  theory  works  tyranny  and  irreligion  in  jDrac- 
tice.  The  best  results  are  reached  by  leaving  men 
free  to  think  for  themselves  in  matters  of  religion, 
so  long  as  they  refrain  from  lawless  and  harmful 
conduct.  This  is  the  limit  to  freedom  of  conscience. 
This  conclusion  will  never  please  a  certain  type 
of  ecclesiastic,  and  a  certain  species  of  religious 
fanatic.  The  members,  and  especially  the  officers, 
of  a  state  church  can  never  look  upon  disestablish- 
ment as  anything  but  a  supreme  triumph  of  the 
Adversary,  the  very  hour  and  power  of  darkness. 
The  fanatic  will  look  upon  the  secularizing  of  the 
state  as  an  act  of  disloyalty  to  God  which  cannot 
fail  to  be  visited  with  some  signal  punishment. 
The  limitations  of  his  intellect  i^revent  his  seeing 
that  it  is  not  a  question  of  disloyalty  to  religion  on 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  2G9 

the  part  of  human  heings,  the  only  realities  in  the 
case,  but  only  a  limitation  of  their  governmental 
activity  to  non-religious  interests.  If  it  meant  in 
addition  that  the  government  is  to  ignore  or  violate 
the  religious  convictions  of  the  community,  it  would 
be  another  matter.  Some  verbal  exegetes  have 
affected  to  find  this  result  in  the  separation  of 
church  and  state ;  but  the  fact  is  that  in  this,  as  in 
other  matters,  we  must  determine  what  we  mean 
less  by  words  than  by  deeds.  By  such  verbal  exege- 
sis the  claim  that  it  is  better  to  obey  God  than  man 
may  be  tortured  into  potential  treason ;  and,  on  the 
other  hand,  the  civil  supremacy  of  the  state  may  be 
made  to  mean  the  right  to  confiscate  ecclesiastical 
property  and  forbid  religious  worship.  But  this  is 
hysteria,  when  not  hypocrisy.  Practical  formulas 
are  not  to  be  construed  by  the  dictionary  but  by 
the  purpose  of  the  formulators.  While  we  do  not 
suffer  the  government  to  become  sectarian,  we  are 
a  religious  people,  and  whoever  wishes  to  live  with 
us  will  have  to  put  up  with  that  fact  as  long  as  it 
remains  the  fact.  But  the  fancy  that  God  is  such 
a  stickler  for  etiquette  that  he  will  take  offence  if 
his  name  is  not  inscribed  on  public  buildings  or 
in  the  Constitution,  is  worthy  only  of  a  savage. 
Finally,  if  one  can  persuade  himself  that  certain 
external  rites  and  verbal  assents  are  the  absolute 
conditions  of  salvation,  he  must  argue  for  enforcing 
religion  by  whatever  means;  but  this  notion  de- 
serves a  place  with  the  other. 

If  all  legislation  were  a  manifest  implication  of 


270  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

moral  jDrinciples  there  would  be  no  distinction 
between  moral  and  positive  law,  and  there  would 
be  no  question  of  our  duty  always  to  obey  the  law. 
But  the  bulk  of  legislation  involves  no  moral  prin- 
ciple, but  only  a  practical  judgment  of  expediency, 
and  one  which  is  often  unwise.  Hence  there  will 
always  be  a  neutral  field  between  the  individual 
and  society,  where  the  sense  of  obligation  will  be 
a  variable  quantity.  In  general  a  law-abiding  dis- 
position is  a  social  duty  of  the  highest  obligation, 
but  we  cannot  demand  that  wicked  laws  shall  be 
obeyed,  and  we  cannot  expect  that  men  will  feel 
the  same  obligation  to  obey  all  laws,  irrespective  of 
their  v/isdom  or  unwisdom.  Indeed,  unwise  laws  will 
always  be  evaded  if  possible.  Tariff  laws  will  not 
always  command  the  conscience  and  the  judgment. 
Here  is  another  broad  field  where  no  formal  princi- 
ple can  be  laid  down  which  will  solve  all  problems. 
It  is  manifest,  simply  as  a  matter  of  policy,  that 
the  laws  should  be  as  wise  and  righteous  as  possi- 
ble ;  as  only  on  this  condition  can  they  long  secure 
obedience.  Beyond  the  point  where  they  command 
the  judgment  and  the  conscience,  the}^  can  be  en- 
forced only  by  power.  This  state  of  things,  if 
wide-spread  and  long-continued,  must  lead  to  gen- 
eral law-breaking,  if  not  to  revolution. 

What  has  just  been  said  refers  to  individuals  over 
against  society,  A  further  question  arises  concern- 
ing the  relation  of  social  officers  to  society.  Are 
they  permitted  to  have  a  conscience  and  mind  of 
their  own,  or  are  they  mere  instruments  for  exe- 
cuting the  laws?     This,  too,  is  a  point  which  admits 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  271 

of  no  hard  and  fast  decision.  The  duty  of  the  pub- 
lic servant  is  manifest  within  the  moral  limit,  but 
that  limit  cannot  always  be  drawn.  It  is  plain  that 
it  would  be  absurd  and  dangerous  to  allow  a  state 
officer  to  revise  the  laws  he  has  to  administer.  But 
on  the  other  hand  it  is  equally  plain  that  being  a 
public  servant  does  not  extinguish  the  moral  per- 
sonality and  its  relation  to  the  moral  law.  Despotic 
governments  naturally  take  a  very  rigid  view  of 
the  obligation  of  their  officers,  especially  of  the 
army.  An  army  that  thinks  and  has  a  conscience 
is  mighty  in  a  righteous  cause,  but  is  a  very  uncer- 
tain reliance  in  a  campaign  against  the  rights  of 
the  people.  Here  the  prescription  is  the  same  as 
in  the  previous  case.  The  social  action  must  be 
based  on  justice  if  we  are  to  demand  unconditional 
obedience.  But  when  the  individual  opposes  his 
conscience  to  his  official  duty  he  must  be  prepared 
to  take  the  consequences.  He  can  hardly  expect  to 
free  himself  from  obligation  by  the  easy  method  of 
expressing  a  conscientious  scruple. 

The  punitive  action  of  society  is  a  practical  ques- 
tion of  great  complexity,  and  its  theoretical  basis  is 
by  no  means  clearly  conceived.  The  views  con- 
cerning wrong-doing  oscillate  between  crime  and 
disease,  and  those  concerning  its  treatment  vary 
from  expiation  to  hygiene  and  medicine.  We  as- 
sume in  common  with  all  mankind  that  there  is 
such  a  thing  as  crime,  and  ini^uire  into  the  nature 
and  ground  of  its  punishment. 

Two  points  of  view  are  to  be  distinguished,  which. 


272  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

however,  are  commonly  confounded.  One  is  the 
standj^oint  of  abstract  desert  as  we  may  conceive  it 
to  exist  for  God  in  his  deahngs  with  men.  The 
other  is  the  standpoint  of  our  human  relations. 
Many  things  are  true  for  the  former  which  are  not 
true  for  the  latter.  If  we  should  satisfy  ourselves 
that  a  given  jDcrson  deserved  punishment,  that  fact 
alone  would  not  justify  us  in  assuming  to  inflict  it. 
It  is  not  plain  that  we  are  constituted  the  guardians 
of  the  moral  law  to  the  extent  of  meting  out  its 
penalties.  It  was  oversight  of  this  distinction  which 
led  to  Kant's  famous  claim  that  if  a  given  society 
were  about  to  dissolve,  the  criminals  who  might  be 
awaiting  their  punishment  should  receive  it  in  full, 
in  order  that  the  society  should  be  in  no  arrears 
with  the  moral  law.  This  view,  which  has  some- 
thing bracing  in  it,  plainly  rests  on  the  assumption 
that  the  vindication  of  the  moral  law  is  a  function 
of  society. 

From  the  abstract  moral  standpoint  the  funda- 
mental idea  of  punishment  is  retribution  on  the  part 
of  the  punisher,  and  expiation  on  the  part  of  the 
punished.  The  evil  will  deserves  to  come  to  grief, 
and  that  too  without  any  reference  to  its  reform. 
If  the  evil  visited  upon  it  secures  its  reformation, 
that  is  so  much  clear  gain;  but  in  any  case  it  must 
go  ill  with  the  wicked.  If  we  conceive  a  moral 
being  founding  a  system  in  which  the  good  will 
and  the  evil  will  shall  be  possible,  we  demand  that 
he  shall  make  the  system  such  that  the  good  will 
shall  be  furthered  and  favored  and  the  evil  will 
shall  be  thwarted  and  punished.     In  a  moral  system 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  273 

it  is  impossible  that  the  two  should  be  regarded  and 
treated  alike.  And  as  a  matter  of  fact  we  find  the 
laws  of  the  system,  physical  and  spiritual  alike, 
combining  to  make  the  way  of  the  transgressor 
hard.  It  is  a  very  interesting  type  of  mind  which 
sees  in  these  results  consequences  only  and  not  pun- 
ishment, or  which  forgets  to  inquire  how  they 
came  to  be  consequences. 

But  however  clear  the  principle  of  retribution 
may  be  in  abstract  theory,  it  is  of  little  use  in  form- 
ing a  theory  of  social  punitive  action.  We  are 
entirely  unable  to  judge  how  much  evil  a  given 
crime  demands  for  its  expiation,  and  we  are  equally 
unable  to  estimate  the  proper  responsibility  of  any 
one.  Besides,  as  already  suggested,  it  is  not  clear 
that  either  the  individual  or  society  is  called  upon 
to  vindicate  the  moral  law  in  general  by  securing 
the  expiation  of  all  transgressions.  That  certainly 
is  neither  in  our  province  nor  in  our  power.  The 
only  misdeeds  we  are  called  upon  to  punish  are 
those  which  have  a  social  bearing,  and  here  too  the 
principle  of  expiation  is  not  a  serviceable  guide. 
With  this  principle  the  determination  of  the  kind 
and  measure  of  punishment  would  be  arbitrary, 
unless  we  adopted  the  Jex  ialionis ;  and  this  in 
many  cases  would  be  as  infamous  as  the  crime  itself. 
It  would  do  very  well  in  case  of  crime  against  prop- 
erty, if  the  offender  had  any  property.  But  this  is 
so  often  not  the  case  that  some  other  way  must  be 
found  or  invented. 

On  the  other  hand,  no  theory  of  punishment  is 
manageable  which  does  not  rest  on  the  ill  desert  of 

18 


274  PRINCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

the  evil  will.  The  several  ends  proposed  for  pun- 
ishment all  beconae  intolerable  without  this  refer- 
ence. Thus,  it  is  said,  the  aim  of  punishment  is 
to  secure  society,  to  reform  the  criminal,  to  deter 
potential  criminals,  etc.  But  suppose  it  were  pro- 
posed to  secure  society,  or  deter  from  crime,  by 
punishing  an  innocent  person?  Such  a  case  has 
even  occurred ;  and  a  distinguished  ecclesiastic  gave 
it  as  his  oj)inion  that  it  was  expedient  that  even  an 
innocent  man  should  die  for  the  people.  In  rude 
or  inflammable  societies  such  cases  might  often 
occur.  A  mob  in  eastern  Euro^DC  might  be  per- 
suaded, say,  that  a  Jew  had  slaughtered  a  Christian 
child  as  a  sacrifice.  The  authorities  might  be  per- 
fectly sure  of  the  man's  innocence,  and  yet  proceed 
to  punish  him  because  of  the  mob's  clamor  and  the 
danger  of  an  outbreak. 

These  considerations  serve  to  shov/  that  public 
security  alone  is  no  just  ground  for  punishment. 
The  only  persons  who  may  justly  be  f)unished,  even 
to  edification,  are  those  whose  punishment  is  de- 
served apart  from  its  edifying  aspects.  Neither  is 
it  permitted  to  punish  one  for  his  improvement. 
Every  one  needs  improvement;  but  that  does  not 
constitute  an  obligation  to  submit  to  the  pedagogical 
experiments  of  others,  nor  a  right  on  their  part  to 
undertake  a  course  of  moral  hygiene  on  his  behalf. 
No  punishment,  then,  can  be  justified  unless  it  be 
essentially  just.  If  society  defends  itself  the  de- 
fence must  be  just. 

The  root  idea  of  punishment,  then,  is  retribution ; 
and  any  attempt  to  escape  it  only  the  more  certainly 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  275 

brings  us  back  to  it.  It  is  only,  however,  as  a  pre- 
supposition of  all  theory  that  we  can  avail  ourselves 
of  this  idea.  In  practice  the  punitive  action  of 
society  is  better  understood  on  the  following  basis. 
Both  the  individual  and  society  have  a  right  to  self- 
defence.  This  right  has  all  the  sacredness  of  the 
moral  personality  in  both  cases.  There  can  be  no 
moral  life  without  the  security  of  the  individual, 
and  this  in  turn  demands  the  security  of  the  social 
order  and  of  personal  rights.  Hence  society  may 
constrain  the  individual  to  do  what  that  order  de- 
mands, and  it  may  also  repress  the  individual  in 
any  activity  which  threatens  that  order  or  which 
infringes  upon  another's  rights.  This  repression 
must  largely  take  the  form  of  penalty.  The  person 
who  will  not  regard  the  rights  of  others  must  be 
coerced  and  fettered  in  the  measure  of  his  attack 
upon  others.  It  is  just  that  society  should  so  deal 
with  him  that  he  shall  be  prevented  from  doing 
mischief,  and  that  others  shall  not  be  tempted  by 
his  example  to  do  likewise.  Whatever  is  necessary 
to  guard  society  against  the  criminal,  and  to  make 
the  criminal  industry  unprofitable,  society  may 
justly  do.  Whatever  lies  beyond  this,  in  the  way 
of  absolute  expiation  and  punishment,  belongs  not 
to  man  but  to  God. 

We  relinquish,  then,  all  responsibility  as  vindi- 
cators of  absolute  justice  and  morality,  and  confine 
ourselves  to  defending  personal  rights  and  social 
order,  and  to  making  the  criminal  industry  unprofit- 
able. This  gives  us  an  intelligible  standard  for 
criminal  procedure,  and  one  which  can  be  applied 


276  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

not  merely  by  those  who  view  the  criminal  as  guilty, 
but  also  by  those  who  regard  him  as  diseased.  The 
latter  view  leaves  it  quite  undecided  what  form  the 
hygienic  treatment  is  to  take,  and  what  prophylactic 
measures  are  to  be  adojDtedi  It  is  entirely  possible, 
therefore,  for  the  two  schools  to  agree  in  practical 
measures ;  only  what  one  school  would  call  penalty 
the  other  would  call  medicine.  If,  tlien,  a  lesser 
penalty,  or  dose,  will  serve  for  restraint  and  protec- 
tion, a  greater  may  not  be  imposed  or  administered. 
If  a  growing  humanization  and  amelioration  of  life 
make  men  more  amenable  to  restraining  influences, 
the  penalties  may  be  lightened.  If  the  penalty  of 
death  is  the  only  efficient  restraint  of  homicide  it  is 
justified,  otherwise  not.  As  to  the  abstract  right 
of  the  death  penalty,  we  take  it  on  our  conscience. 
We  are  not  concerned  to  save  the  lives  of  assassins 
if  thereby  the  lives  of  honest  men  are  directly  or 
indirectly  imperilled.  Penalties,  moreover,  should 
always  be  of  a  kind  which  can  be  inflicted  without 
dehumanizing  the  inflicter.  Certain  things  are 
also  due  to  the  humanity  in  the  criminal.  Cruel- 
ties of  all  kinds,  and  a  style  of  confinement  which 
must  result  in  idiocy  or  insanity,  are  diabolisms 
quite  infernal.  The  way  of  the  transgressor  ought 
to  be  hard,  but  this  does  not  imply  that  society  is 
to  outdo  the  criminal  himself  in  savageness  and 
brutality. 

The  form  and  measure  of  punishment  must  al- 
ways have  in  human  hands  a  somewhat  arbitrary 
character.  In  their  determination  regard  should 
be  had  to  the  character  and  circumstances  of  the 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  277 

criminal,  so  far  as  it  does  not  interfere  with  the 
aim  of  tho  law.  Here  is  the  place  for  considering 
extenuating  circumstances,  and  also  the  improve- 
ment of  the  criminal.  For  those  whose  crimes 
result  largely  from  a  weak  and  untaught  will  very 
much  can  be  done  by  a  wise  selection  of  the  form 
of  punishment.  And  in  all  cases  the  law  and  jus- 
tice must  punish.  Contact  with  the  impersonal 
operation  of  a  just  law  will  carry  the  criminars  con- 
science with  it,  or  will  tend  to  awaken  conscience  if 
it  be  asleep.  But  subjection  to  the  brutal  violence 
and  passion  of  an  overseer  can  only  call  forth  an 
answering  diabolism.  That  form  of  punishment  is 
forever  unjust  which  necessarily  leaves  its  subject 
morally  worse  than  ever. 

These  are  the  aims  and  principles  to  be  regarded 
in  penal  law.  To  specify  them  into  codes  demands 
a  profound  study  of  human  nature  and  an  extended 
experience.  Unfortunately,  the  aims  themselves 
have  been  very  scantily  recognized  hitherto.  The 
actual  history  of  penology  is  an  almost  unrelieved 
horror.  It  is  doubtful  if  it  does  not  outdo  in  inhu- 
manity even  the  annals  of  crime  itself. 

Yet  in  our  reaction  against  these  barbarities  we 
must  guard  against  falling  into  the  other  extreme. 
Social  interests  and  those  of  the  law-abiding  citizen 
are  first.  When  these  are  secured  the  ameliora- 
tion of  the  criminal  may  be  considered ;  but  that  is 
a  very  wearisome  type  of  philanthropy  which  is  all 
bowels  for  the  criminal  and  none  for  the  honest 
man.  We  must  be  on  our  guard  against  the  sniv- 
elling of  the  sentimentalist  and  the  scruples  of  the 


278  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

closet  moralist.  Contact  with  the  real  criminal 
will  commonly  help  us  against  the  former.  For 
the  latter,  we  must  remember  that  there  are  few 
practical  questions  which  might  not  be  reasoned 
about  forever.  At  last  we  have  to  make  up  our 
minds  and  carry  our  decision  through.  The  same 
possibility  of  eternal  talk  meets  us  here.  We  may 
raise  scruples  about  the  right  of  this  and  the  jus- 
tice of  that,  world  without  end.  At  last  we  settle 
the  matter  by  making  up  our  minds  and  taking  the 
right  in  question.  To  do  nothing  for  fear  of  doing 
wrong  is  not  the  highest  type  of  morality. 

Most  of  the  crimes  in  society  are  against  individ- 
uals, but  society  assumes  the  right  to  punish.  The 
transference  of  the  punishing  function  to  society 
has  proceeded  with  the  growth  of  civilization.  In 
rude  and  primitive  societies  we  find  this  function 
largely  exercised  by  individuals.  And  if  the  injured 
person  could  punish  with  certainty  and  without 
passion,  the  work  might  well  be  left  to  him.  As 
the  reward  of  a  good  deed  belongs  pre-eminently  to 
the  benefited,  so  the  reward  of  an  evil  deed  belongs 
pre-eminently  to  the  one  injured.  Accordingly  so- 
ciety takes  no  notice  of  a  wrong  in  the  great  major- 
ity of  cases,  unless  the  person  wronged  makes  a 
complaint.  Thus  his  right  to  forgive  is  recognized, 
and  also  the  fact  that  punishment  must  begin  from 
him.  When  society  does  not  allow  the  matter  thus 
to  rest,  it  is  because  the  deed  is  held  to  be  not  merely 
an  infringement  of  personal  rights,  but  also  an 
attack  on  the  well-being  of  the  community. 

Society,    however,    has    generally   assumed    the 


THE   ETHICS   OP   SOCIETY  279 

right  to  inflict  punishment,  leaving  to  the  individ- 
ual only  the  right  of  self-defence.  There  are  mani- 
fold reasons  for  this.  Only  thus  can  punishment 
be  assured.  Only  thus  can  the  disturbing  influence 
of  passion  and  self-interest  be  eliminated.  Only 
thus  can  the  punishment  be  freed  from  the  aspect 
of  private  revenge  and  reduced  to  impersonal  jus- 
tice. Only  thus,  again,  can  any  due  measure  be 
introduced  into  it,  and  allowance  made  for  exten- 
uating circumstances.  Only  thus,  finally,  as  we 
know  from  history,  can  society  be  freed  from  un- 
ending and  bloody  feuds.  Punishment  by  society, 
therefore,  has  the  advantage  of  power,  imjDerson- 
ality,  and  passionless  justice.  When,  however, 
society  fails  to  protect  the  individual,  or  to  fulfil 
its  proper  function,  or  when  society  is  not  yet 
organized,  as  in  frontier  districts,  then  everything 
goes  back  to  first  principles  and  the  individual  must 
lookout  for  himself.  Then  the  vigilance  committee 
is  called  for,  and  self-defence  is  permitted  to  fore- 
stall the  attack.  Such  action  may  be  against  stat- 
ute law,  but  it  is  in  full  accord  with  the  law  behind 
the  statutes. 

As  to  what  crimes  shall  be  held  amenable  to 
society,  the  most  diverse  opinions  have  been  held. 
Some  would  make  society  the  supreme  censor  of 
morals  and  religion,  both  public  and  private.  This 
view,  as  already  pointed  out,  is  the  most  natural ; 
and  indeed  any  definition  of  the  function  of  society 
can  easily  be  made  to  include  it.  If  we  say  that 
society  is  set  to  secure  the  common  good,  it  is  plain 
that  morals  and  religion  are  very  important  factors 


280  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

of  that  good.  If  we  say  only  that  r^ociety  is  set  to 
defend  the  community,  it  is  plain  that  immorality 
and  irreligion  are  its  worst  enemy  and  the  most 
prolific  source  of  mischief.  Freedom  of  thought, 
of  course,  cannot  be  interfered  with,  because  there 
is  no  way  of  preventing  it.  But  freedom  to  express, 
to  publish,  and  act  out  one's  thought  is  quite  a 
different  thing.  Eepression  of  free  speech  and  pub- 
lication by  a  despot  is  most  dangerous,  but  mainly 
because  of  his  own  wicked  aims.  Repression  by  a 
wise  and  imimrtial  power  in  the  interest  of  the 
common  good  is  not  so  certainly  bad,  except  to 
those  who  experience  it.  It  becomes  less  and  less 
necessary,  however,  as  men  develop  into  rational 
beings;  for  then  the  foolish  or  wicked  utterance 
falls  harmless  into  contemjDt. 

If  we  decide  to  punish  only  those  infractions  of 
the  moral  law  which  are  prejudicial  to  the  public 
welfare  or  trespass  on  the  rights  of  others,  we  still 
have  a  very  uncertain  guide ;  for  there  is  very  little 
immorality  which  is  not  a  public  loss  and  a  trespass 
on  others'  rights.  A  man's  most  personal  vices 
may  be  a  robbery  of  his  family.  Not  siDeculation, 
but  experience,  must  decide  in  this  matter.  The 
inner  life  is  beyond  our  scrutiny.  Many  violations 
of  rights  cannot  be  made  the  subject  of  judicial 
inquiry  without  intolerable  scandal.  Finally,  there 
is  a  host  of  minor  trespasses  which  are  overlooked 
on  the  principle  that  the  law  does  not  concern  itself 
about  small  matters.  Such  things  have  to  be  left 
to  the  conscience  and  wisdom,  or  unwisdom,  of 
individuals,  and  to  the  control  of  public  opinion. 


THE   ETHICS  OF  SOCIETY  281 

If  society  were  ci  reality  distinct  from  its  mem- 
bers, or  if  its  controlling  power  were  delegated  from 
without,  the  theory  of  government  would  be  im- 
mensely simplified.  The  latter  notion  has  been 
largely  held  under  the  form  of  the  divine  right  of 
kings.  A  good  many  royal  personages  at  one  time 
and  another  have  managed  to  persuade  themselves 
that  they  held  a  commission  from  God  to  rule  their 
respective  realms.  Deriving  their  authority  from 
this  high  source,  they  could  not  fail  to  regard  as  a 
great  heresy  the  claim  that  the  people  are  the  source 
of  power,  or  that  governments  derive  their  just 
power  from  the  consent  of  the  governed.  Their 
inability,  however,  to  show  their  commission,  to- 
gether with  the  progress  of  political  philosophy,  has 
rendered  this  notion  practically  obsolete.  So  far  as 
it  had  any  thought  in  it,  it  resulted  from  confound- 
ing the  general  supremacy  of  society  over  its  mem- 
bers with  the  absolute  authority  of  some  particular 
ruler.  The  political  revolutions  in  England  and 
France  did  much  toward  shaking  these  two  notions 
asunder. 

The  statement  often  made  in  this  connection, 
that  power  is  not  from  the  people  but  from  God,  is 
of  no  use  in  political  philosophy.  If  some  one  could 
show  an  authentic  commission  from  God  to  govern 
the  world,  something  might  be  said  for  his  suprem- 
acy. But  in  default  of  such  showing,  the  claim 
that  power  is  from  God  can  only  mean  that  the 
control  of  society  over  the  individual  which  is  nec- 
essary for  the  realization  of  humanity  is  in  accord- 
ance with  the  divine  will.     It  is  also  worth  some- 


283  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

thing  as  emphasizing  the  moral  basis  of  all  author- 
ity. Mere  will,  whether  of  the  majority  or  of  the 
entire  people,  can  found  no  rightful  authority  unless 
that  will  be  in  harmony  with  righteousness.  For 
the  rest,  the  claim  leaves  us  quite  in  the  dark  as 
to  the  proximate  source  and  seat  of  authority  in 
society. 

On  the  other  hand,  we  are  not  entirely  out  of  the 
woods  when  we  say  that  the  jDeoftle  are  the  source 
of  power,  and  that  governments  derive  their  just 
powers  from  the  consent  of  the  governed.  This 
would  be  true  for  a  world  where  all  were  alike  wise 
and  good,  but  it  is  a  little  obscure  and  even  doubt- 
ful when  api^lied  to  our  human  life.  As  a  matter 
of  fact,  political  power,  even  among  ourselves,  is  in 
the  hands  of  a  very  small  minority  of  the  people. 
The  exclusion  of  women  and  minors  alone  reduces 
the  ruling  body  to  a  small  fraction  of  the  whole. 
Moreover,  we  never  think  of  asking  the  minority 
to  consent  to  be  governed ;  we  govern  whether  they 
consent  or  not.  This  brings  us  to  consider  the 
political  rights  of  the  individual,  or  his  right  to 
have  a  voice  in  the  government  of  society. 

The  ideal  is  equality  of  political  rights,  and  in 
default  of  reasonable  and  just  limitation  this  should 
be  the  rule.  In  a  community  of  angels,  or  of  any 
hypothetical  beings  endowed  with  equal  capacity 
and  loyalty,  this  rule  would  be  self -evidently  just. 
The  physical  impossibility  of  having  all  the  citizens 
share  directly  in  the  legislative  and  other  functions 
of  the  government  w^ould  be  overcome  without  im- 
pairing political  equality  by  a  system  of  representa- 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  283 

tive  government,  and  by  appointing  special  officers 
for  the  work  of  administration.  In  such  a  division  of 
labor  the  government,  its  forms,  its  measures,  and 
its  officials  would  all  ultimately  depend  on  the  will 
of  the  people ;  and  the  officials  would  be  responsible 
to  the  peojDle.  But  in  the  case  of  human  society 
the  problem  is  far  from  being  so  simple.  There  are 
manifold  distinctions  of  age,  sex,  and  condition, 
physical,  mental,  and  moral;  and  these  necessarily 
affect  the  political  rights  of  the  person.  It  would 
be  quite  absurd  to  make  politically  equal  the  knavish 
and  honest,  the  foolish  and  wise,  the  infantile  and 
mature.  What  effect,  then,  should  these  differ- 
ences have  upon  the  political  rights  of  the  indi- 
vidual ? 

With  regard  to  infancy  there  has  never  been  any 
doubt.  Minors  are  universally  recognized  as  hav- 
ing no  political  rights  because  of  immature  knowl- 
edge and  judgment.  They  have  a  right  to  be 
rightly  governed  and  to  be  defended  in  their  per- 
sonal interests  as  human  beings ;  but  they  have  no 
right  to  govern.  And,  inasmuch  as  it  would  be 
impossible  to  make  a  special  examination  as  to  fit- 
ness in  every  case,  society  has  to  fix  the  limits  of 
minority  by  some  one  standard  which  can  be  easily 
applied  to  all.  This  limit  of  course  can  never  be 
more  than  a  general  average.  In  many  cases  it 
will  be  too  high,  and  in  quite  as  many  others  too 
low. 

Again,  as  society  is  a  moral  institution  for  the 
defence  and  furtherance  of  humanity,  only  those 
should  be  allowed  to  participate  whose  character  is 


284  PRIXCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

in  harmony  with  these  fundamental  social  aims. 
Persons  who  are  in  rebellion  against  society,  or  who 
are  seeking  to  use  social  forms  to  further  schemes 
of  iniquity,  or  who  avail  themselves  of  their  polit- 
ical rights  to  disturb  and  menace  the  social  system, 
thereby  lose  all  right  to  share  in  social  guidance. 
In  general,  however,  society  is  not  in  a  position  to 
judge  of  the  moral  character  or  secret  aims  of  the 
person ;  and  this  principle  can  be  applied  only  when 
the  individual  manifests  his  lawless  and  mischievous 
disposition  in  certain  forms  of  crime.  It  is  for 
society  to  determine  what  deeds  shall  forfeit  polit- 
ical rights. 

A  low  grade  of  intelligence,  also,  justly  excludes 
from  political  rights.  Such  persons  are  only  dis- 
turbing factors  in  society,  and  when  numerous  they 
constitute  a  grave  social  menace.  Their  ignorance 
leaves  them  an  easy  prey  to  passion,  and  hence  an 
easy  prey  to  the  demagogue.  When  the  blind  leads 
the  blind  they  are  sure  to  end  in  the  ditch;  but 
when  the  devil  leads  them  the  disaster  is  intensified, 
and  commonly  involves  the  bystanders  also. 

Where  the  limits  of  disqualifying  ignorance 
shall  be  set  admits  of  no  theoretical  decision,  or  at 
least  of  none  that  can  be  practically  applied.  Since 
the  time  of  Socrates  it  has  been  urged  that  it  is 
highly  ridiculous  to  give  the  vote  of  a  peasant  as 
much  weight  as  that  of  a  philosopher.  Abstractly 
it  is  ridiculous,  but  practically  the  objection  over- 
looks some  obvious  facts.  Voting  is  by  no  means 
the  only  mode  of  influence.  Again,  history  shows 
that  the  peasant  with  plain  sense  and  conscience  is  as 


THE  ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  285 

trustworthy  as  the  philosopher.  An  aristocracy  is, 
etyraologically,  the  government  of  the  best;  but 
practically  it  has  never  been  the  best  government 
for  the  people.  Historically,  distinctions  of  intelli- 
gence, beyond  those  of  plain  common  sense,  have 
wrought  more  harm  than  good.  There  is  a  mani- 
fest tendency  in  all  culture  which  takes  the  form 
of  aesthetic  refinement  to  draw  away  from  the  peo- 
ple and  even  to  despise  them.  Indeed,  unless  this 
tendency  is  balanced  by  uncommon  mental  force 
and  by  a  wise  and  intense  enthusiasm  for  humanity, 
it  is  by  no  means  difficult  to  acquiesce  in  the  notion 
of  a  great  European  statesman,  that  the  ideal  order 
of  society  is  a  substratum  of  laborers  and  a  super- 
structure of  refinement  and  elegance,  with  an  im- 
passable gulf  between.  The  next  step  of  course  is 
to  see  that  education  is  a  very  doubtful  good  for 
the  laboring  classes,  that  it  makes  them  dissatisfied, 
moody,  and  recalcitrant,  and  should  be  withheld. 
We  often  hear  among  ourselves  that  education  is 
spoiling  the  "niggers;"  that  is,  of  course,  it  is  spoil- 
ing them  as  "niggers,"  by  awakening  a  desire  to 
be  men.  There  is  far  less  risk  to  humanity  in  sim- 
ple manhood  suffrage  than  in  the  admission  of  class 
distinctions  in  the  distribution  of  power.  The  ease 
with  which  wealth  and  power  sink  into  selfish 
blindness  to  the  wants  and  rights  of  the  weak  and 
poor  is  quite  as  ominous  for  the  public  weal  as  the 
possible  excesses  of  democracy.  Indeed,  we  might 
even  question  whether,  if  exclusion  is  to  be  made, 
it  should  not  be  the  class  which,  calling  itself  "soci- 
ety," assumes  to  be  the  especial  seat  of  culture  and 


280  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

refinement.  For  often  enough  this  class  is  one  in 
principle  with  the  lowest  animal  class.  It  is  an 
animal  life  in  both  cases,  differing  only  in  the  form 
and  the  menu.  No  other  class  is  so  indifferent  to 
its  political  duties  or  makes  a  boast  of  despising 
them.  No  other  class  is  so  lacking  in  the  enthusi- 
asm of  humanity ;  and  so  far  as  it  has  any  signifi- 
cance for  humanity,  it  is,  to  use  Matthew  Arnold's 
formula,  a  materializing,  vulgarizing,  and  brutal- 
izing one. 

The  iDroj)osition  to  give  special  political  rights  to 
proiDcrty  has  not  justified  itself  in  practice.  Noth- 
ing is  so  well  able  as  capital  to  take  care  of  itself 
in  anything  but  a  state  of  anarchic  chaos.  Through- 
out the  past  it  has  incessantly  wrested  legislation  to 
its  own  ends,  and  its  usurpations  still  constitute  a 
special  menace  to  the  community. 

Minority,  imbecility,  and  criminality  justly  ex- 
clude from  political  rights.  Whether  being  a 
woman  likewise  constitutes  a  disqualification  is  a 
warmly  debated  question.  The  almost  universal 
affirmative  of  history  is  to  be  historically  under- 
stood. It  is  not  an  outcome  of  reasons,  but  a 
product  of  causes.  The  arguments  in  favor  of  the 
disqualification  are  either  forms  of  words  only,  or 
they  tell  against  suffrage  in  general  rather  than 
against  woman  suffrage.  Of  course  the  sexes  have 
different  functions  to  perform  in  life,  but  apart  from 
these  there  is  a  large  field  common  to  men  and 
women  where  they  appear  simply  as  moral  persons, 
and  where  their  rights  are  equal,  just  as  men  with 
all  their  differences  of  ability,   occupation,    social 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  287 

standing,  etc.,  meet  on  a  common  plane  of  legal 
rights.  The  wise  remark  often  made,  that  women 
are  to  be  the  mothers  of  the  race,  seems  to  be  no 
more  decisive  as  to  political  rights  than  the  equally 
profound  observation  that  men  are  to  be  the  fathers 
of  the  race.  Both  propositions  are  true,  but  un- 
fruitful. Over  and  above  being  fathers  and  mothers, 
men  and  women  are  moral  persons  and  meml:)ers  of 
a  community  whose  interests  are  committed  to 
them.  To  maintain  the  political  disqualification  of 
women  it  will  have  to  be  shown  either  that  women 
are  not  moral  persons  at  all,  or  that  they  are  men- 
tally and  morally  so  weak  as  to  be  a  menace  to 
society  if  entrusted  with  any  voice  in  the  govern- 
ment. This  would  be  to  the  point.  The  traditional 
utterances  on  this  matter  are  striking  illustrations 
of  the  fact  that  anything  whatever  that  looks  like 
argument  will  pass  for  a  valid  reason  in  support  of 
a  foregone  conclusion. 

Bearing  in  mind  that  the  right  to  vote  means 
simply  the  right  to  express  an  opinion  concerning 
social  arrangements  and  to  have  it  count  in  their 
determination,  there  is  no  need  to  consider  the  al- 
leged risk  of  being  defiled  thereby.  The  fancy  that 
in  some  way  women  would  be  degraded  by  an  inter- 
est in  the  laws  and  a  share  in  making  them,  should 
be  carefully  preserved  in  an  anthology  of  human 
whimsies.  Rationally  it  is  quite  on  a  level  with 
many  Oriental  notions  of  female  propriety,  which 
also  have  the  support  of ''strong  instinctive  revul- 
sions," but  which  unhappily  make  a  poor  show  in 
reasoning.     But  time  and  growth  put  an  end  to 


288  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

such  notions.  The  whim  that  it  is  excessively  droll 
or  shocking  that  women  should  go  to  college  and 
have  political  rights,  is  fast  becoming  the  property 
of  persons  of  slender  mental  gifts  and  of  some  scat- 
tering ecclesiastics.  Of  course  woman  suffrage, 
like  popular  suffrage,  has  fearsome  logical  possibil- 
ities in  it;  but  so  long  as  a  community  remains 
sane  they  will  not  be  realized  in  either  case.  If  a 
community  ever  became  insane,  no  theory  of  gov- 
ernment would  amount  to  much.  Pending  this 
disaster,  we  see  only  injustice  in  withholding  polit- 
ical rights  on  the  sole  ground  of  sex.  Any  body  of 
men  subject  to  the  same  conditions  as  women  would 
view  itself  as  tyrannously  oppressed.  The  legal 
distinctions  between  men  and  men  have  vanished. 
The  legal  distinctions  between  men  and  women 
must  vanish  also. 

But  may  a  woman  hold  office  ?  Certainly,  if  duly 
elected.  The  right  to  hold  office,  at  least  in  our 
country,  means  only  eligibility.  It  becomes  con- 
crete and  actual  only  when  one  is  elected  to  some 
office  by  a  majority  of  the  voters. 

These  considerations  concerning  political  rights 
express  the  ideal  to  be  aimed  at,  but  one  by  no 
means  generally  reached.  The  actual  social  order 
differs  greatly  in  different  places,  and  has  had  a  high- 
ly complex  origin,  apart  from  which  it  cannot  be 
understood.  ■  In  the  apiDlication  of  this  ideal,  how- 
ever, due  regard  must  always  be  paid  to  the  existing 
situation.  The  fundamental  right  of  all  is  to  be 
well  governed ;  and  the  fundamental  duty  of  gov- 


THE  ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  289 

ernment  is  to  secure  the  common  j^ood,  so  far  as 
that  comes  within  its  province.  The  sharing  in 
government,  apart  from  its  hearing  on  good  gov- 
ernment, is  a  matter  of  suhordinate  interest.  If  a 
thoroughly  just,  wise,  and  heneficent  government 
could  be  assured  in  perpetuity  we  would  willingly 
forego  our  political  rights,  particularly  as  the  hap- 
piness or  misery  of  life  is  mainly  independent  of 
government.  Government  should  always  be  for 
the  people,  but  government  hy  the  people  depends 
for  its  wisdom  altogether  upon  the  people's  devel- 
opment. Hence  the  granting  and  extension  of 
political  rights  are  to  be  determined  in  practice  not 
simply  by  an  apriori  doctrine  of  rights,  but  also  by 
their  practical  expediency.  If  we  ask  who  is  to 
determine  the  expediency,  the  answer  must  be,  those 
actually  in  possession  of  political  power.  They  are 
responsible  not  to  individual  arbitrariness,  but  to 
the  common  good.  If  they  cannot  grant  the  exten- 
sion demanded  at  any  time,  the  first  thing  to  do  is 
to  discuss,  in  the  hope  of  finding  some  common 
ground  with  the  jDetitioners.  If  they  still  fail  to 
agree,  there  is  no  appeal  but  to  force.  But  except 
under  compulsion  it  is  not  permitted  for  those  in 
possession  of  the  government  to  extend  political 
rights  beyond  the  limits  of  public  safety.  Hence, 
after  setting  up  equality  of  political  rights  as  the 
ideal  social  order,  we  must  observe  that  it  is  ideal 
only  on  the  supposition  of  ideal  men.  The  practical 
question  of  how  far  this  ideal  can  be  united  with 
the  common  weal  in  the  actual  state  of  affairs  re- 
mains entirely  untouched.      This  question   admits 

19 


290  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

of  no  theoretical  solution,  but  only  of  approximation 
in  practice.  Actual  political  equality  is  admissible 
only  where  there  is  a  certain  homogeneity  of  devel- 
opment and  national  spirit.  For  instance,  it  would 
be  bottomless  folly  to  admit  the  population  of  India 
to  an  equality  of  political  rights  with  the  people  of 
England.  As  in  the  field  of  general  ethics  we  have 
had  a  great  deal  of  abstract  ethics  valid  only  for 
hypothetical  beings,  so  in  this  field  we  have  had 
much  abstract  political  philosophy  which  is  applica- 
ble only  to  hypothetical  beings ;  and  it  has  always 
been  easy  to  show  that  this  philosophy  consists  of 
glittering  generalities  which  can  never  be  realized 
in  practice.  On  the  other  hand,  the  defenders  of 
the  actual  order  have  failed  to  see  that  these  glit- 
tering generalities  do,  after  all,  represent  an  ideal 
by  which  the  actual  must  be  judged.  If  the  "ide- 
ologist "  must  be  balanced  by  the  historian  and  the 
practical  statesman,  they,  in  their  turn,  make  sorry 
work  of  it  without  the  "ideologist." 

Society,  as  a  moral  institution,  is  never  permitted 
to  violate  the  moral  law.  Hence  things  which  in 
themselves  are  immoral  can  never  be  permitted  or 
licensed  by  society.  The  right  to  remit  sins,  as 
well  as  the  right  to  commit  sins,  does  not  belong  to 
any  community  any  more  than  to  any  individual. 
Hence  a  proposition  to  license  prostitution,  or  by  a 
system  of  examination  and  certification  to  make  it 
hygienically  safe,  is  as  unpermissible  as  a  license 
for  theft  or  assassination.  The  claim  that  the  evil 
will  exist,  and  should  therefore  be  regulated,  counts 


THE  ETHICS   OF  SOCIETY  291 

as  little  in  one  case  as  in  the  other.  Against  all 
things  essentially  wrong  society  must  set  its  face, 
and  must  never  compromise  its  own  moral  nature 
by  any  system  of  license. 

The  question  of  licensing  the  liquor  traffic  will  or 
will  not  seem  to  be  settled  by  the  previous  consid- 
erations, according  as  we  view  the  use  of  spirituous 
liquors  as  essentially  wrong  or  as  being  permissible 
within  certain  limits.  Those  who  take  the  former 
view  will  of  course  regard  license  as  a  crime. 
Others  will  view  the  traffic  as  not  necessarily  im- 
moral, but  as  fraught  with  danger  and  hence  as 
needing  to  be  brought  under  governmental  control, 
with  the  aim  of  diminishing  the  social  risk  as  much 
as  possible.  For  all  who  hold  this  view  the  question 
of  license  is  not  immediately  a  moral  one,  but  rather 
the  practical  one  of  the  best  method  of  dealing  with 
a  source  of  danger ;  and  if  they  find  that  license  is 
practically  more  effective  than  prohibition  they  will 
not  be  dismayed  at  the  charge  of  being  in  a  league 
with  death  or  a  covenant  with  hell.  If,  on  the 
other  hand,  they  find  prohibition  to  be  more  effect- 
ive, they  will  adopt  that.  For  all  such  persons  the 
question  is  one  of  fact,  to  be  settled  by  evidence 
and  not  by  ignorant  conscientiousness.  In  any 
case,  when  we  cannot  do  the  ideally  best  it  is  the 
part  of  practical  wisdom  to  do  the  best  we  can. 

If  we  ask  who  is  responsible  for  the  sins  of  society 
the  answer  must  be.  All  those  who  help  to  commit 
them  or,  having  power,  acquiesce  in  them.  Here 
is  a  point  on  which  there  is  practically  no  moral 
conviction  in  the  community.     The  soullessness  of 


292  PRINCIPLES  OF  ETHICS 

corporations  is  reproduced  in  a  larger  scale  in  the 
souUessness  of  society,  and  in  both  cases  the  individ- 
ual shelters  himself  behind  the  many.  We  cannot 
hope  for  much  progress  in  public  righteousness  until 
this  delusion  is  swept  away. 

Particular  forms  of  legislation  also  commonly 
involve  no  moral  question,  but  only  a  practical 
judgment  as  to  what  will  best  further  social  inter- 
ests. Such  questions  are  often  of  the  most  compli- 
cated sort,  and  commonly  no  irrelevance  can  be 
greater  than  an  appeal  to  the  moral  law  for  their 
solution.  The  matter  of  taxation  may  serve  as  an 
illustration.  In  practice  a  compromise  has  to  be 
made  between  ai)riori  ideas  of  justice  or  equality 
and  the  actual  difficulties  of  the  problem.  The 
form  of  taxation  which  is  theoretically  perfect  may 
be  practically  inadmissible  because  of  its  unproduc- 
tiveness, or  because  of  the  opposition  it  arouses, 
owing  to  its  inquisitorial  character  or  some  other 
obnoxious  feature.  In  general,  complaints  against 
any  legislation  demanded  by  public  interests  must 
be  set  aside  until  a  more  excellent  way  is  shown. 
Living  in  society  has  its  disadvantages  as  well  as 
its  advantages.  We  may  even  say  that  it  involves 
frequent  injustice,  for  what  could  be  more  unjust 
than  the  law  of  social  solidarity  whereby  the  inno- 
cent suffer  with  the  guilty  and  the  idle  share  in  the 
rewards  of  diligence?  But  there  is  no  help  for  it. 
We  have  got  beyond  the  social  contract.  Society, 
like  all  other  human  institutions  and  like  humanity 
itself,  is  imperfect ;  but  it  may  enforce  its  authority 


THE  ETHICS   OF  SOCIETY  293 

even  in  its  imperfection.     Anarchy  is  not  desirable 
even  in  the  name  of  conscience. 

After  having  decided  that  the  common  good  as 
conditioned  by  moral  principles  must  be  the  aim  of 
social  action,  the  practical  question  of  the  best  mode 
of  realizing  that  good  remains  entirely  open.  This 
inquiry  belongs  to  political  philosophy  rather  than 
to  ethics.  Ethics  of  course  must  emphasize  the 
moral  spirit  and  ideas  which  should  underlie  social 
development,  but  it  cannot  dictate  its  forms.  To 
begin  with,  the  best  form  of  government  is  an  open 
question  and  admits  of  no  theoretical  determination. 
The  easy  consideration  that  one  form  may  be  better 
for  one  stage  of  progress  than  for  another  does  not 
furnish  all  the  light  that  could  be  desired.  Nor 
are  we  helped  any  by  comparing  the  abstract  ideas 
of  monarchy  and  democracy.  Democratic  rule  will 
be  very  bad  if  the  people  are  very  bad.  But  des- 
potic rule  will  also  be  very  bad  if  the  despot  is  very 
bad.  Election  by  the  people  is  not  an  infallible 
method  of  securing  capable  rulers,  but  hereditary 
descent,  especially  when  complicated  with  ancestral 
vice,  is  quite  as  open  to  objection.  If  a  strong  and 
just  government  could  be  imposed  from  without  by 
a  power  of  superior  strength  and  wisdom  it  would 
often  be  an  invaluable  boon  to  an  undeveloped  peo- 
ple, but  when  a  people  is  developing  from  within 
itself  we  have  to  compare  its  actual  government 
not  with  a  government  of  another  type  elsewhere 
existing,  but  Avith  such  other  types  as  are  possible 
to  itself.      For  peoples  which  have  reached  some 


294  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

measure  of  development  in  civilization,  the  condition 
of  supreme  importance  is  that  the  government  shall 
be  sufficiently  flexible  to  respond  readily  to  changed 
conditions  of  society  and  to  new  needs  as  they  arise. 
When  the  government  is  responsible  to  the  people 
to  this  extent,  the  question  of  its  external  form  has 
only  a  subordinate  interest. 

How  to  escape  both  anarchy  and  despotism ;  how 
to  combine  strong  central  government  with  local 
self-government;  how  to  organize  the  government 
so  as  to  secure  the  highest  efficiency ;  how  to  unite 
social  stability  and  social  progress;  how  to  defend 
the  people  against  the  government  itself  by  fixing 
limits  which  it  may  not  pass,  or  by  removing  cer- 
tain subjects  from  its  control — these  are  the  ques- 
tions at  which  political  philosophy  still  labors.  A 
very  slight  acquaintance  with  history  reveals  their 
profound  significance  for  human  progress.  The 
only  thing  more  significant  is  the  moral  spirit  itself, 
which  should  flow  through  legal  and  political  forms 
as  their  life  and  support.  When  this  is  lacking  it 
matters  little  what  else  we  have,  for  "What  can 
laws  do  without  morals?  " 

What  has  been  said  thus  far  concerns  only  the 
relation  of  existing  individuals  to  an  existing  social 
order.  But  as  human  beings  are  perpetually  com- 
ing and  going,  the  actual  members  of  society  are 
changing  all  the  while.  This  gives  rise  to  a  new 
set  of  questions.  We  are  continuators  of  a  past 
and  the  antecedents  of  a  future.  Thus  we  are 
brought  to  consider  our  duties  to  the  past  and  to 
the  future. 


THE   ETHICS  OP   SOCIETY  295 

On  this  point  only  the  most  general  considerations 
are  possible.  How  far  we  are  to  regard  the  will  of 
the  past  is  a  matter  partly  of  sentiment,  which  must 
be  limited  by  considerations  of  the  present  good. 
No  man  or  generation  has  wisdom  enough  to  be 
permitted  to  bind  the  future,  except  to  a  very  slight 
extent.  We  can  only  trust  that  others  will  come 
after  us  as  wise  and  devoted  as  we,  and  that  they 
will  continue  whatever  of  good  may  be  found  in 
our  work. 

Our  responsibility  for  the  debts  of  the  past  and 
our  right  to  saddle  the  future  with  debts  are  points 
of  some  obscurity.  It  is  plain,  however,  that  no 
debts  may  be  justly  contracted  in  the  name  of  the 
future,  except  for  interests  of  manifest  public  im- 
portance. When  this  rule  is  duly  regarded  the 
future  may  rightly  be  called  to  assist  in  paying  for 
the  goods  which  have  been  transmitted  to  it.  But 
here  also  no  absolute  rule  can  be  reached.  We 
cannot  deny  a  solidarity  of  interest  between  the 
past  and  future  without  destroying  all  continuity 
of  life  and  history.  But  on  the  other  hand  we  can- 
not allow  any  generation  an  unlimited  right  to 
mortgage  the  future.  The  moral  question  here  is 
fairly  complex.  The  matter  is  commonly  made 
worse  by  an  access  of  high  morality  on  the  part  of 
the  creditor  and  an  equally  questionable  lack  of  all 
morality  on  the  part  of  the  debtor,  leaving  one  quite 
at  a  loss  to  choose  between  Shylock  and  the  thief. 

The  ethics  of  the  particular  state  or  nation  calls 
for  only  a  short  notice.     As  something  distinct  from 


296  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

the  ethics  of  society  it  arises  from  the  fact  that 
there  is  no  one  society  comprehending  all  human 
beings,  but  men  are  scattered  in  different  national 
groups.  So  far  as  these  are  related  to  their  own 
subjects,  their  ethics  is  the  same  as  that  of  society. 
But  as  distinct  from  one  another  they  enter  into 
mutual  relations,  and  a  rule  of  conduct  is  made 
necessary.     This  is  the  field  of  international  law. 

Of  the  conditions  of  nationality  we  have  no  call 
to  speak.  The  importance  of  nationality,  however, 
deserves  to  be  emphasized.  A  mistaken  cosmopoli- 
tanism and  philanthropy  are  sometimes  inclined  to 
do  away  with  the  nation  in  the  interest  of  a  federa- 
tion of  mankind.  The  only  good  in  this  is  the  aim 
to  do  away  with  the  hostility  which  has  so  generally 
existed  between  different  nations.  For  the  rest,  it 
does  not  tend  to  profit.  Patriotism  which  looks 
upon  other  nations  as  enemies,  or  as  lawful  spoil, 
is  of  course  to  be  condemned ;  but  we  cannot  well 
have  too  much  of  patriotism  which  seeks  by  all 
honorable  methods  to  lift  one's  own  country  to  the 
highest  development  and  power.  And  it  is  by  such 
friendly  rivalry,  far  more  than  by  any  universal 
philanthropy,  that  human  progress  is  to  be  secured. 
A  proposition  to  do  away  with  family  affection  in 
the  name  of  a  love  for  the  race  would  hardly  be  less 
promising  in  the  present  stage  of  human  develop- 
ment. 

We  have  seen  that  individual  ethics  may  be 
very  clear  when  abstractly  considered,  and  very 
difficult  in  the  concrete  application.  The  same  is 
true  of  national  and  international  ethics.     The  the- 


THE   ETHICS   OF   SOCIETY  297 

cry  is  easier  than  the  application.  When  we  are 
dealing  with  the  abstract  notion  of  nationality  and 
of  the  relations  of  states  the  matter  is  fairly  simple, 
but  when  we  pass  to  the  relations  of  actual  states 
the  questions  are  far  more  complex.  Again,  if  all 
states  were  on  the  same  plane  of  development  and 
civilization  it  would  be  relatively  easy  to  determine 
their  mutual  duties,  but  in  fact  we  have  social 
organizations  varying  all  the  way  from  the  patri- 
archal and  tribal  condition  up  to  the  modern  civil- 
ized state.  Many  of  these  are  properly  not  states, 
for  until  there  is  a  certain  amount  of  social  organ- 
ization and  centralization  of  government,  there  is 
nothing  which  deserves  to  be  called  a  state.  Some 
of  these  also  are  embodiments  of  humane  and  moral 
ideas,  and  others,  like  the  kingdoms  of  Ashantee 
and  Dahomey,  are  the  enemies  of  their  own  sub- 
jects. It  would  be  absurd  to  accord  to  the  latter 
such  rights  as  belong  to  the  former.  Moreover,  in 
spite  of  the  luminous  declaration  that  the  state  is  a 
moral  person,  the  moral  relations  of  persons  are  by 
no  means  identical  with  those  of  states.  A  regard 
for  humanity  might  often  lead  to  a  disregard  of  an 
existing  governmental  relation.  The  tribal  relations 
of  oar  Indians  and  a  multitude  of  governments  in 
Asia  and  Africa  might  be  broken  up  and  annihi- 
lated to  the  great  advantage  of  the  persons  and 
communities  concerned. 

With  the  understanding,  then,  that  we  are  liable 
to  stumble  on  a  contradiction  at  any  moment,  we 
might  say  something  as  follows:  A  nation's  first 
obligation  is  to  itself  and  its  own  subjects.     This  is 


298  PRINCIPLES   OF  ETHICS 

true  not  only  in  the  matter  of  defence  and  protec- 
tion, but  also  in  industrial  relations.  Where  this 
obligation  ends  and  unallowable  selfishness  begins 
it  is  hard  to  say.  Again,  if  a  nation,  like  our  own, 
be  conscious  of  having  a  great  work  to  perform  in 
the  progress  of  humanity,  it  is  forbidden  to  do  or 
allow  anything  which  will  hinder  that  work.  By 
consequence,  it  may  not  admit  aliens  and  other  ele- 
ments which  are  indifferent  or  hostile  to  the  national 
aims  and  spirit  to  a  share  in  power,  and  only  to  a 
limited  extent  to  a  habitation.  No  body  of  persons 
not  homogeneous  in  spirit  and  loyalty  can  long  be 
tolerated  in  the  midst  of  a  nation.  Unless  some 
modus  Vivendi  be  discovered,  exclusion  or  banish- 
ment, or  some  form  of  special  subjection,  is  the 
only  resource  when  the  alien  body  becomes  numer- 
ous. In  one  shape  or  another,  Deborah's  curse  of 
Meroz  is  sure  to  be  pronounced  on  those  who  will 
not  come  up  to  the  help  of  the  nation.  Eemember- 
ing,  however,  the  ease  with  which  class  and  racial 
hatred  is  stirred  up,  this  charge  of  indifference  to 
the  national  life  and  aims  should  never  be  enter- 
tained without  the  fullest  proof.  In  general,  the 
mere  fact  of  living  together  in  peace  will  commonly 
serve  to  generate  enough  of  national  spirit. 

But  these  considerations  are  indisputably  valid 
only  when  the  national  life  and  aims  are  themselves 
justified.  We  might  be  willing  that  China  should 
proclaim  that  China  is  for  the  Chinese,  but  we 
should  not  be  willing  to  have  the  Chinese  Christians 
butchered  or  banished  on  the  ground  of  being  an 
alien  and   heterogeneous  element   in  the   empire. 


THE  ETHICS   OF  SOCIETY  299 

We  might  not  be  able  to  tell  very  clearly  on  what 
principle  of  international  law  we  proceeded,  but  we 
should  proceed  nevertheless.  The  real  principle 
would  be  that  the  rights  of  humanity  are  above  all 
rights  of  nationality.  The  latter  are  subordinate 
to  the  former,  and  on  occasion  may  be  decisively 
set  aside.  Any  nationality  or  national  principle 
that  stands  in  the  way  of  human  progress  has  be- 
come an  obstacle  to  be  modified  or  removed. 

The  intercourse  of  the  higher  nations  with  the 
lower  should  be  regulated  by  this  regard  for  the 
rights  of  humanity  rather  than  for  the  rights  of 
nationality.  To  exploit  a  barbarous  people  for  our 
own  selfish  interests  is  infamy.  To  force  upon 
them,  or  even  to  furnish  them  with,  the  means  of 
vice  is  diabolism.  To  interfere  with  them  in  any 
way  except  for  self-defence,  unless  we  are  sure  of 
bettering  their  condition,  is  unwarrantable.  But 
to  accord  them  national  rights  to  any  great  extent 
is  impossible.  In  the  march  of  human  progress 
they  must  be  transformed  or  perish. 

Life  as  a  whole,  we  have  said,  is  not  largely  con- 
trolled by  moral  ideas.  This  is  pre-eminently  the 
case  with  international  relations.  If  there  were  a 
large  development  of  humanity,  unselfishness,  and 
good  will,  these  questions  might  be  peacefully 
solved ;  but  it  is  Utopian  to  hope  for  such  a  result 
in  the  near  future.  Selfishness,  passion,  and  wrath 
will  be  let  loose,  and  all  we  can  hope  is  that  a  higher 
power  will  restrain  or  use  them  for  their  mutual 
destruction,  as  when  one  viper  kills  another.  As 
of  old,  it  must  needs  be  that  offences  come,  but,  also 


300  PRINCIPLES  OF   ETHICS  "^ 

as  of  old,  woe  unto  them  by  whom  the  offence 
Cometh.  This  woe  is  especially  to  be  borne  in  mind, 
as  writers  on  the  philosophy  of  history  are  prone  to 
overlook  it  and  to  pardon  any  historical  infamy 
whatever  which  happens  to  fit  into  their  scheme  of 
progress. 

In  the  development  of  humanity  wars  have  often 
been  necessary.  Wars  of  self-defence  have  been 
waged  by  the  civilized  nations  against  the  barbarous 
hordes,  and  it  is  only  a  short  time  since  the  barbar- 
ous and  uncivilized  races  were  so  definitely  put 
under  foot  as  to  be  no  longer  a  source  of  danger. 
Modern  science  in  its  military  applications  has 
finally  rescued  civilization  from  danger  at  the  hands 
of  outside  barbarians.  Other  wars  have  arisen  in 
the  way  of  securing  the  rights  of  humanity  and 
the  industrial  development  demanded  by  civiliza- 
tion. Both  of  these  types  of  war  have  been  his- 
torically necessary  and  beneficent,  and  both  are 
morally  justifiable.  The  professional  philanthropist 
in  his  denunciation  of  war  sometimes  overlooks  this 
fact,  and  unites  all  wars  in  the  one  class  of  butchery 
and  murder.  This  folly  and  falsehood  prevent  the 
truth  he  has  from  being  recognized.  War  for  pas- 
sion's sake  is  only  animal  ferocity.  War  for  ambi- 
tion's sake  is  the  sum  of  all  crimes.  But  there  are 
other  wars  than  these,  and  wars  which  have  been 
among  the  most  beneficent  events  of  human  history. 
With  the  progress  of  humanity  we  may  hope  that 
the  last  type  of  war  will  no  longer  be  necessary, 
and  that  the  former  types  will  be  made  impossible. 


THE   ETHICS   OF  SOCIETY  301 

We  may  hope  that  national  differences  will  yet  be 
settled  by  reason  and  righteous  arbitration,  and 
that  the  spread  of  education  will  make  men  less 
impressible  by  the  scenic  glories  of  war  and  show 
them  the  unspeakable  folly  of  the  customary  rant 
about  national  honor.  In  particular,  the  spread  of 
the  industrial  type  of  society  and  of  the  Christian 
idea  of  man  must  tend  more  and  more  to  make  war 
in  its  traditional  forms  something  which  the  con- 
servative and  humane  elements  of  society  will  not 
tolerate. 

In  earlier  days  patriotism  was  the  great  virtue. 
There  was  nothing  higher  than  the  state,  and  patri- 
otism was  the  great  form  under  which  self-sacrifice 
and  unselfish  devotion  manifested  themselves.  It 
remains  a  virtue  still,  but  only  a  subordinate  one. 
The  state  has  become  instrumental  for  the  individ- 
ual, and  humanity  has  become  more  than  all  states. 
There  is  no  longer  any  justification  for  patriotism 
of  the  type  which  says,  My  country,  right  or  wrong ; 
and,  moreover,  jDatriotism  of  that  type  is  not  only 
immoral,  but  in  the  end  pernicious  to  the  country 
itself. 

The  church  as  an  institution  lies  partly  in  the 
realm  of  theology  and  partly  in  the  realm  of  ethics. 
But  whatever  its  theological  foundation  and  internal 
organization,  it  is  subject  to  the  same  law  as  all 
other  institutions.  The  church  is  for  man  and  not 
man  for  the  church,  and  its  value  is  measured  by 
its  ministry  to  humanity.  From  this  point  of  view 
a  word  may  be  permitted  on  the  ethics  of  the  church. 


302  PRINCIPLES   OF   ETHICS 

As  an  ideal,  there  is  nothing  great  besides.  We 
have  before  referred  to  the  significance  of  institu- 
tions for  the  moral  life,  in  that  they  furnish  the 
sense  of  community  which  is  the  great  condition  of 
unselfish  living.  Of  these  institutions  the  church 
is  ideally  the  head.  Transcending  all  family,  social, 
and  national  limits,  it  furnishes  a  community  as 
wide  as  the  race.  Here  the  sharp  antitheses  of 
condition  are  removed.  Here  the  bitter  enmities 
of  race  and  blood  disajDpear.  Here  the  high  and 
the  low,  the  rich  and  the  poor,  the  wise  and  the 
ignorant  meet  together  in  the  love  of  one  Lord  who 
is  the  Maker  and  Head  of  them  all.  Here,  too,  the 
spiritual  forces  of  humanity  centre.  Here  is  the 
fellowship  of  all  who  are  seeking  to  live  in  the 
spirit.  Here  is  the  perpetual  witness  to  man's 
greatness  and  the  perennial  reminder  of  his  im- 
mortal destiny.  Here  is  a  great  universal  confed- 
eration for  spiritual  purposes,  and,  through  them, 
for  all  other  purposes  that  look  to  man's  upbuilding, 
freed  from  limitations  of  race  and  nation  and  con- 
dition, and  bound  by  a  common  love  to  a  common 
work  toward  a  common  aim,  and  that  the  highest. 
Surely  here,  as  nowhere  else,  humanity  can  find  the 
shadow  of  a  large  rock  in  a  weary  land. 

How  far  we  come  short  of  this  ideal  need  not  be 
told.  We  have  seen  enough  depressing  facts  al- 
ready. The  corruption  of  the  best  is  the  worst. 
The  church,  like  all  other  institutions,  suffers 
grievously  from  the  imperfections  of  humanity. 
These  reproduce  themselves  in  the  religious  life  and 
make  here  their  most  odious  manifestation.     Ethics 


THE  ETHICS  OF  SOCIETY  303 

also  has  to  complain  that  the  church  has  not  always 
remembered  th;it  it  was  made  for  man.  Instead  of 
ministering,  it  has  often  sought  to  rule,  and  that 
not  in  the  spirit  of  ministry,  but  of  unholy  ambi- 
tion. Like  humanity  itself,  it  has  tended  to  lose 
itself  in  externals  and  to  overlook  the  inner  spirit 
and  life.  Moreover,  it  has  not  always  duly  regarded 
the  other  institutions  of  humanity.  With  a  false, 
if  not  an  impure,  sanctity  it  has  at  times  reflected 
upon  the  family;  and  with  a  mistaken,  if  not  an 
unhallowed,  ambition  it  has  sought  to  usurp  power 
over  the  state.  It  has  also  cultivated  an  other- 
worldliness  which  at  times  has  been  a  serious  men- 
ace to  civilization,  and  from  v/hich  we  are  not  yet 
wholly  free.  The  religious  history  of  mankind  is 
distressing  enough,  and  the  history  even  of  the 
Christian  religion  is  not  without  its  depressing  feat- 
ures when  compared  with  its  own  ideal.  Here,  as 
elsewhere,  we  have  to  recognize  that  that  which  is 
perfect  is  not  yet  come,  and  that  here,  as  elsewhere, 
men  do  not  always  know  what  spirit  they  are  of. 
But  here,  again,  as  with  our  other  institutions, 
progress  does  not  lie  in  abolishing  the  institution, 
but  rather  and  only  in  developing  it  in  accordance 
with  its  ideal,  as  that  ideal  becomes  better  and  better 
apprehended. 


CONCLUSION 

It  remains  to  exhibit  the  net  result  of  our  labors. 
The  substance  may  be  set  forth  somewhat  as  follows : 

1.  That  was  not  first  which  was  spiritual,  but 
that  which  was  natural,  and  afterward  that  which 
was  spiritual.  But  the  spiritual  is  not  something 
apart  from  the  natural,  as  a  kind  of  detached  move- 
ment ;  it  is  rather  the  natural  itself,  rising  toward 
its  ideal  form  through  the  free  activit}^  of  the  moral 
person.  The  natural  can  be  understood  only  through 
the  spiritual,  to  w4iich  it  points;  and  the  spiritual 
gets  contents  only  through  the  natural,  in  which  it 
roots. 

2.  As  a  consequence,  the  field  of  ethics  is  life 
itself,  and,  immediately,  the  life  that  now  is.  And 
our  moral  task  is  to  make  this  life,  so  far  as  possible, 
an  expression  of  rational  good-will.  In  this  work 
we  have  a  double  guide.  Internally,  we  have  a 
growing  moral  ideal ;  externally,  we  have  a  growing 
insight  into  the  tendencies  of  conduct.  Neither  of 
these  can  be  deduced  from  the  other,  and  both  are 
alike  necessary. 

3.  For  life  has  two  poles.  It  demands  for  its 
perfection  both  outward  fortune  and  happiness  and 
inward  worth  and  peace.  A  conditioned  life  like 
ours  cannot  reach  an  ideal  form,  unless  it  be  in  har- 
mony both  with  its  objective  environment  and  with 

304 


CONCLUSION  305 

its  subjective  ideals.  Either  of  these  elements,  when 
viewed  apart  from  the  other,  is  an  abstraction  of 
theory,  and  a  source  of  confusion,  if  not  of  mischief. 
If  we  consider  only  the  inner  worth  and  peace,  ethics 
runs  to  leaves.  If  we  consider  only  the  outer  for- 
tune and  happiness,  ethics  runs  to  weeds.  There  is 
no  need  to  ask  which  factor  is  first,  as  both  should 
be  first,  last,  and  always. 

4.  The  moral  life  finds  its  chief  field  in  the  service 
of  the  common  good.  Neither  virtue  nor  happiness 
is  attainable  as  a  direct  abstract  aim.  It  is  a  com- 
monplace that  happiness  eludes  direct  pursuit ;  and 
it  is  equally  true,  though  less  generally  recognized, 
that  virtue  is  alike  elusive.  Our  nature  acts  spon- 
taneously and  normally  only  when  we  are  taken 
out  of  ourselves  and  our  attention  is  directed  to  our 
normal  objects.  The  man  who  is  seeking  to  do  as 
he  would  be  done  by,  and  to  love  his  neighbor  as 
himself,  is  in  a  much  better  way  morally  than  the 
man  who  is  engaged  in  self-culture  and  the  pursuit 
of  virtue. 

5.  The  greatest  need  in  ethics  is  the  impartial 
and  unselfish  will  to  do  right.  With  this  will, 
most  questions  would  settle  themselves;  and,  with- 
out it,  all  theory  is  worthless.  The  selfish  will  is 
the  great  source  not  only  of  wars  and  fightings, 
but  also  of  dishonest  casuistry  and  tampering  with 
truth  and  righteousness.  One  bent  on  doing  wrong 
never  lacks  an  excuse ;  and  one  seeking  to  do  right 
can  commonly  find  the  way. 

C).  Presupposing  this  will  to  do  right,  the  great 

need  in  ethical  theory  is  to  renounce  abstractions, 
20 


30G  PRINCIPLES   OP  ETHICS 

as  virtue,  pleasure,  happiness,  and  come  into  con- 
tact with  reality.  Most  of  the  theoretical  conten- 
tions of  the  world  would  vanish  if  brought  out  of 
their  abstraction.  Mr.  Mill  did  once  suggest  that 
two  and  two  might  make  five,  but  he  prudently 
located  the  possibility  in  another  planet.  That  is, 
it  was  a  purely  verbal  doubt,  which  neither  he  nor 
any  one  else  ever  dreamed  of  tolerating  in  concrete 
experience.  Ethics,  in  particular,  has  suffered  from 
this  verbalism ;  and  all  the  more  because  it  is  a 
practical  science,  which  has  to  do  with  life  rather 
than  speculation.  Concrete  relations  and  duties 
have  been  overlooked  in  the  name  of  various  ab- 
stractions— all  of  them  thin  and  bloodless,  and  ad- 
mitting of  endless  verbal  maniimlation.  It  is  in 
this  region  of  abstractions  that  most  ethical  debate 
has  been  carried  on.  Hence  its  sterility  of  any- 
thing but  mischief.  As  Mr.  Mill's  doubt  did  not 
touch  practical  arithmetic,  so  the  doubts  of  the 
ethical  schools  vanish  before  concrete  matter.  The 
men  of  good  will  who  are  desirous  of  leading  a  help- 
ful and  worthy  human  life  will  generally  agree  in 
the  great  outlines,  and  also  in  the  details,  of  duty, 
whatever  their  ethical  philosophy.  And  even  the 
tedious  vaporers  about  the  indifference  of  vice  and 
virtue  succeed  in  believing  their  own  whims  only 
so  long  as  they  keep  clear  of  the  concrete.  A  blind- 
ness more  than  judicial  can  easily  be  induced  con- 
cerning the  facts  of  human  life  by  bringing  in  a 
few  such  terms  as  sin  and  plunging  into  the  laby- 
rinths of  theological  controversy.  So  great  is  the 
deceit  of  words !     Hence  the  importance  of  rescu- 


CONCLUSION  .*)07 

ing   ethics  from  its  abstractions  and  bringing   it 
into  contact  with  life. 

7.  Tlie  great  need  of  ethical  practice,  next  to  the 
good  will,  is  the  serious  and  thoughtful  ai)plication 
of  intellect  to  the  problems  of  life  and  conduct.  As 
error  arises  less  from  wilful  lying  than  from  in- 
difference to  truth,  so  misconduct  and  social  evils 
in  general  arise  less  from  a  will  to  do  wrong  than 
from  an  indifference  to  doing  right.  As  of  old,  the 
"people  do  not  consider;"  and  in  the  ignorance  thus 
engendered  terrible  things  are  done  or  ignored. 
There  is  really  moral  life  enough  to  make  vast  and 
beneficent  reforms,  if  the  people  would  only  con- 
sider. And  until  they  do  consider  we  must  worry 
along  in  the  old  way,  with  an  embryonic  conscience, 
drugged  by  custom  and  warped  into  artificiality, 
while  life  is  directed  not  by  wise  and  serious  reflec- 
tion, but  by  conflicting  passion  and  selfishness.  We 
shall  escape  from  this  condition  only  as  we  control 
the  mechanical  drifting  of  thoughtlessness,  and  ad- 
vance beyond  the  narrowness  of  the  conventional 
conscience,  and  devote  all  our  good  will  and  all  our 
intellect  to  the  rationalization  and  moralization  of 
life. 

■  8.  We  shall  also  do  well  to  remember  that  right- 
eousness is  nothing  which  can  be  achieved  once  for 
all,  whether  for  the  individual  or  for  the  commu- 
nity. The  living  v/ill  to  do  right  must  be  ever 
present  in  both,  forever  reaffirming  itself  and  ad- 
justing itself  to  new  conditions.  The  tacit  dream 
of  the  half-way  righteous  in  both  fields  is  that  some 
stage  may  be  reached  where  the  will  may  be  relaxed, 


308  PRINCIPLES   OP   ETHICS 

and  given  a  vacation.  But  this  dream  also  must 
be  dismissed.  Both  individual  and  social  righteous- 
ness are  likely  long  to  remain  militant.  As  we  are 
now  constituted,  righteousness  cannot  be  so  stored 
away  in  habits  as  to  dispense  with  the  continuous 
devotion  of  the  living  will.  Especially  is  this  devo- 
tion demanded  in  social  righteousness.  Here  the 
error  is  perennial  of  thinking  that  justice  and  wis- 
dom may  be  so  stored  up  in  laws  and  constitutions 
as  to  run  of  themselves,  while  the  citizens  are  left 
free  to  go  to  their  farms  and  merchandise.  This 
is  one  of  the  most  pernicious  practical  errors  of  our 
time.  Social  righteousness  may  be  expressed  in 
laws,  but  it  lives  only  in  the  moral  vigilance  of  the 
people. 

9.  In  a  very  important  sense  the  respectable  class 
is  the  dangerous  class  in  the  community.  By  its 
example  it  degrades  the  social  conception  of  the 
meaning  of  life,  and  thus  materializes,  vulgarizes, 
and  brutalizes  the  public  thought.  Also,  by  its 
indifference  to  public  duties,  it  constitutes  itself  the 
guilty  accomplice  of  all  the  enemies  of  society.  By 
this  same  indifference,  too,  it  becomes  the  great 
breeder  of  social  enemies ;  for  only  where  the  car- 
cass is  are  the  vultures  gathered  together.  The 
ease  with  which  self-styled  good  people  ignore  pub- 
lic duties  and  become  criminal  accomplices  in  the 
worst  crimes  against  humanity  is  one  of  the  humor- 
ous features  of  our  ethical  life. 

10.  In  the  application  of  jDrinciples  to  life  there 
will  long  be  a  neutral  frontier  on  the  borders  of  the 
moral  life,  where  consequences  and  tendencies  have 


CONCLUSION  309 

not  so  clearly  declared  themselves  as  to  exclude 
differences  of  opinion  among  men  of  good  will. 
Here  men  will  differ  in  judgment  rather  than  in 
morals.  It  is  very  common  to  exaggerate  this 
difference  into  a  moral  one;  and  then  the  humorous 
spectacle  is  presented  of  friends  who  ignore  the 
common  enemy  and  waste  their  strength  in  mutual 
belaborings.  This  is  one  of  the  great  obstacles  to 
any  vnluable  reform. 

1 1 .  Finally,  in  reducing  principles  to  practice  we 
must  be  on  our  guard  against  an  abstract  and  im- 
practicable idealism.  Even  in  the  personal  life 
conscience  may  be  a  measureless  calamity,  unless 
restrained  by  a  certain  indefinable  good  sense. 
Many  i^rinciples  look  fair  and  even  ideal  when  con- 
sidered in  abstraction  from  life,  which  cannot,  how- 
ever, be  applied  to  life  without  the  most  hideous  or 
disastrous  results.  Here  is  the  perennial  oversight 
of  off-hand  reformers  and  socialistic  quacks.  Ethics 
when  divorced  from  practical  wisdom  prevents  the 
attainment  of  its  own  ends.  The  abstract  ethics  of 
the  closet  must  be  replaced  by  the  ethics  of  life,  if 
we  would  not  see  ethics  lose  itself  in  barren  conten- 
tions and  tedious  verbal  disjDutes. 


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HISTORY  OF  MEDIEVAL  ART.  By  Dr.  Franz  von  Reber. 
Translated  and  Augmented  by  Joseph  Thaclier  Clarke.  With  422 
lUustrations,  and  a  Glossary  of  Technical  Terms.     8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

HISTORY  OF  ANCIENT  ART.  By  Dr.  Franz  von  Reber.  Re- 
vised by  the  Author.  Translated  and  Augmented  by  Joseph  Thach- 
er  Clarke.  With  310  Illustrations  and  a  Glossary  of  Technical 
Terms.     8vo,  Cloth,  .$3  50. 

THE  INVASION  OF  THE  CRIMEA:  its  Origin,  and  an  Account 
of  its  Progress  down  to  the  Death  of  Lord  Raglan.  By  Alexander 
William  Kinglake.  With  Maps  and  Phms.  Six  volumes,  12mo, 
Cloth,  $2  00  per  vol.  ;  Half  Calf,  $22  50  per  set. 

THE  TSAR  AND  HIS  PEOPLE;  or.  Social  Life  in  Russia.  Pa- 
pers by  Theodore  Child,  Eugene  Melchior  de  Vogije,  Clar- 
ence Cook,  and  Vassili  Verestchagin.  Illustrated.  Square  Svo, 
Cloth,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt  Top,  $3  00. 

LIFE  OF  BISHOP  MATTHEW  SIMPSON,  of  the  Methodist  Epis- 
copal Church.      By  George  R.  Crooks,  D.D.      Illustrated.     Svo, 

Cloth,  $3  75;    Gilt  Edges,  $4  25;   Half  Morocco,  $5  25.     {Sold  by 
Subscription.) 

SERMONS  BY  BISHOP  MATTHEW  SIMPSON,  of  the  Methodist 
Episcopal  Church.  Edited  by  George  R.  Crooks,  D.D.  8vo, 
Cloth,  $2  50. 

OUTLINES  OF  INTERNATIONAL  LAW,  with  an  Account  of  its 
Origin  and  Sources,  and  of  its  Historical  Development.  By  George 
B.  Davis,  U.S.A.     Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

CURIOSITIES  OF  THE  AMERICAN  STAGE.  By  Laurence 
HuTTON.  With  Copious  and  Characteristic  Illustrations.  Crown 
8vo,  Cloth,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt  Top,  $2  50. 

LITERARY  LANDMARKS  OF  EDINBURGH.  By  Laurence 
HuTTON.     Illustrated.     Post  8vo,  Cloth,  Ornamental,  $1  00. 

STUDIES  IN  THE  WAGNERIAN  DRAMA.  By  Henry  E.  Kreh- 
biel.     Post  Svo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 


Valuable  and  Interesting  Works. 


CYPRUS  :  its  Ancient  Cities,  T(iinl)s,  and  Tompics.  A  Niinativc  of 
Kescarclies  and  Excavations  dminj^  Ten  Years'  Residence  in  that 
Island.  By  L.  P.  di  Cksnola.  With  Portrait,  Maps,  and  400  Il- 
lustrations.     8vo,  Cloth,  Extra,  Uncut  Edges  and  Gilt  Toj),  !f(7  50. 

THE  ANCIENT  CITIES  OF  THE  NEW  WORLD:  Being  Voy- 
ages and  Explorations  in  Mexico  and  Central  America,  from  1857 
to  1882.  By  I^esiue  Chahnay.  Translated  by  J.  Gonino  and 
Helen  S.  Conant.  Illustrations  and  Maj).  Royal  8vo,  Ornamental 
Cloth,  Uncut  Edges,  Gilt  Top,  if-G  00. 

A  HISTORY  OF  OUR  OWN  TIMES,  from  the  Accession  of  Queen 
Victoria  to  the  General  Election  of  1880.  By  Justin  M'Cautiiy, 
M.P.     2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  ^2  50;   Half  Calt/ijO  00. 

A  SHORT  HISTORY  OF  OUR  OWN  TI.MES,  fn.in  the  Acces- 
sion of  Queen  Victoria  to  the  General  Election  of  1880.  By  Jcstin 
M-Cartiiy,  MP.      ]2mo,  Cloth,  81   50. 

A  HISTORY  OF  THE  FOUR  GEORGES.  By  Justin  M-Cartiiv, 
M.P.  Ill  Four  Volumes.  Vols.  I.  and  II,,"l2mo,  Cloth,  $1  25 
each. 

THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION.  By  Justin  II.  M'Cartiiy.  In 
Two  Volumes.     Volume  I.  Post  8vo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 

THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  OF  1789,  as  viewed  in  the  Light  of 
Republican  Institutions.     By  John  S.  C.  Aisbott.    Illustrated.    8vo, 

Cloth,  it<a  50;  Sheep,  $i  00;  Half  Calf,  $5  75. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  NAPOLEON  BONAPARTE.  By  John  S.  C. 
Akbott.  Maps,  Illustrations,  and  Portraits.  2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth, 
$7  00;  Sheep,  $8  00;  Half  Calf,  $11  50. 

NAPOLEON  AT  ST.  HELENA ;  or,  Anecdotes  and  Conversations 
of  the  Emperor  during  the  Years  of  his  Captivity.  Collected  from 
the  Memorials  of  Las  Casas,  0"Mcara,  iMontholon,  Antommarchi, 
and  others.  By  Join;  S.  C.  AnnoTT.  Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth, 
$3  50  ;  Sheep,  $4  00  ;  Half  Calf,  $5  75. 

THE  HISTORY  OF  FREDERICK  THE  SECOND,  called  Fred- 
erick the  Great.  By  John  S.  C.  AnnoxT.  Illustrated.  8vo,  Cloth, 
$3  50;   Sheep,  $-4  00;   Half  Calf,  $5  75. 

STUDIES  OF  THE  GREEK  POETS.  By  John  Addington  Stm- 
ONDS.     2  vols..  Square  ICmo,  Cloth,  $3  50  ;  Half  Calf,  §7  00. 

A  HISTORY  OF  CLASSICAL  GREEK  LITERATURE.  By  J.  P. 
Mah.\fi-y.     2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $4  00  ;  Half  Calf,  $7  50. 

A  HISTORY  OF  LATIN  LITERATURE,  from  Ennius  to  Boetldus. 
By  George  Acgustds  Simcox,  M.A.     2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $4  00. 

TENNYSON'S  COMPLETE  POEMS.  The  Complete  Poetical  Works 
of  Alfred,  Lord  Tennyson.  Witli  an  Introductory  Sketch  by  Anne 
Thackeray  Ritchie.  With  Portraits  and  Illustrations.  8vo,  Extra 
Cloth,  Bevelled,  Gilt  Edges,  $2  50. 


8  Valuable  and  Interesting  Works. 

THE  STORY  OF  THE  EARTH  AND  MAN.  By  J.  W.  Daavsox, 
LL.D.,  F.R.S.,  F.G.S.,  Principal  and  Vice-Chancellor  of  McGill 
University,  Montreal.  With  Twenty  Illustrations.  New  and  Revised 
Edition.     12mo,  Cloth,  $1  50. 

THE  ORIGIN  OF  THE  WORLD,  according  to  Revelation  and  Sci- 
ence.     By  J.  W.  Dawson,  LL.D.,  F.R.S. ,  F.G.S.      ]2mo,  Cloth, 

$2  00. 

MODERN  SCIENCE  IN  BIBLE  LANDS.  By  Sir  J.  W.  Dawson, 
C.M.G.,   LL.D.,  F.R.S.      Maps    and   Illustrations.       12nio,  Cloth, 

$2  00. 

*THE  STUDENT'S  SERIES.  Maps  and  Illustrations.  12mo,  Cloth : 
Fraxck. — Gibbon. — Greece.— Rome  (by  Liddell). — Old  Tes- 
tament History.  —  New  Testajient  History.  —  Strickland's 
Queens  of  England. — Ancient  History  of  the  East. — Hal- 
lams  jMiddle  Ages. — Hallams  Constitutional  History  of  Eng- 
land.— Ly'ell's  Elements  of  Geology'. — Mekivales  General 
History'  of  Rome. — Cox's  General  History  of  Greece. — Clas- 
sical Dictionary. — Skeats  Etymological  Dictionary. — Raw- 
linson's  Ancient  History.     $1  25  per  volume. 

Lewis's  History  of  Germany. — Ecclesiastical  History,  Two 
Vol^. — Heme's  England.^ — Modern  Europe.     $1  50  per  volume. 
Westcott  and  Hort's  Greek  Testajiext,  $1  00. 

JESUS  CHRIST  IN  THE  OLD  TESTAMENT ,  or,  The  Great  Ar- 
gument.     By  W.  H.  Thomson,  M.A.,  M.D.      Crown  8vo,  Cloth, 

%2  00. 

MODERN  ITALIAN  POETS,  (1770-1870.)  Essays  and  Versions. 
By  William  Dean  Howells.     With  Portraits.     ]2mo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

SYDNEY  SMITH.  A  Sketch  of  the  Life  and  Times  of  the  Rev. 
Sydney  Smith.  By  Stuart  J.  Reid.  With  Steel-plate  Portrait  and 
iflustrations.      8vo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

THE  FALL  OF  CONSTANTINOPLE.  Being  the  Stnry  of  the 
Fourth  Crusade.     By  Edwin  Pears,  LL.B.     8vo,  Cloth,  $2  50. 

CARICATURE  AND  OTHER  COMIC  ART,  in  All  Times  and  ]\Iany 
Lands.  Bv  James  Parton.  203  Illustrations.  8vo,  Cloth,  Uncut 
Edges  and  Gilt  Top,  §5  00 ,  Half  Calf,  $7  25. 

GEORGE  ELIOT'S  LIFE.  Related  in  her  Letters  .nnd  Journals. 
Arranged  and  Edited  by  her  Husband,  J.  W.  Cross.  Portraits 
and  Illustrations.  3  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  .$3  75,  Half  Calf,  §9  00. 
Popular  Edition  :  Cloth,  $2  25  ;  Half  Binding,  $2  00. 

COLERIDGE'S  WORKS.  The  Complete  Works  of  Samuel  Taylor 
Coleridge.  AVith  an  Introductory  Essay  upon  his  Philosojihical  and 
Theological  Opinions.  Edited  by  Prof.  W.  G.  T.  Shed'd.  With 
Steel  Portrait,  and  an  Index.  7  vols.,  12ino,  Cloth,  $2  00  per  vol- 
ume ;  §12  00  per  set ;  Half  Calf,  $24  25, 


Valuable  and  Interesting  Works.  9 

THE  "FRIENDLY  EDITION"  of  Shakespeare's  Works.  Edited 
hv  W.  J.  lioi.ii;.  In  Twenty  Volumes.  Illustrated.  ICrno,  Gilt 
Tops  aii<l  Uncut  Kdjs'es.  Cloth,  $S25  00;  lltilf  Leather,  $35  00; 
Half  Calf,  f  r.O  00  per  Set. 

LIFE  OF  JAMES  BUCHANAN,  Fifteenth  President  of  the  Unite.l 
States.  By  Geokgk  Ticknok  Cl'UTIS.  With  Two  Steel -Plate 
Portraits.     2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  Uncnt  Edges  and  Gilt  Tops,  fC  00. 

CYCLOP.FJ)IA  OF  BRITISH  AND  AMERICAN  POETRY.  Ed- 
ited hy  Eri;s  Saugknt.  Royal  8\o,  Ilhiniinated  Cloth,  Colored 
Edges,"lJ;4  50;  Half  Leather,  $5  00. 

ADVENTURES  IN  THE  GREAT  FOREST  of  Equatorial  Africa 
and  the  (Country  of  the  Dwarfs.  By  Paul  Du  Ciiaii.i.u.  AbiiJyed 
and  Pojmhir  Edition.  With  Map  and  Illustrations.  Post  8vo, 
Cloth,  $1  75. 

LIVINGSTONE'S  ZAMBESL  Narrative  of  an  Expedition  to  the 
Zambesi  and  its  Trihntarics,  and  of  the  Discovery  of  the  Lakes 
Sliirwa  and  Nyassa,  1858  to  18G4.  By  David  and  Charles  Liv- 
ingstone.    Illustrated.     8vo,Cloth,  $5  00;   Sheep,  $5  50. 

THE  LAST  JOURNALS  OF  DAVID  LIVINGSTONE  in  Central 
Africa,  from  18G5  to  his  Death.  Continued  hy  a  Narrative  of  his 
Last  Moments,  ohtained  from  his  Faitliful  Servants  Clmma  and  Susi. 
By  IIouACE  Wali.kr.  With  Portrait,  Maps,  and  Illustrations.  8vo, 
Cloth,  $5  00;  Sheep,  fG  00. 

HISTORY  OF  FRIEDRICH  II.,  called  Frederick  the  Great.  By 
Thomas  Caklylk.  Portraits,  Maps,  Plans,  etc.  G  vols.,  12mo, 
Cloth,  $7  00;   Sheep,  $9  90;  Half  Calf,  S18  00. 

THE  FRENCH  REVOLUTION  :  A  Historv.  By  Thomas  Carltle. 
2  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  $2  50;  Sheep,  $3  30,   Half  Calf,  $G  00. 

OLIVER  CROMWELL'S  LETTERS  AND  SPEECHES,  including 
the  Supi)lcnient  to  the  First  Edition.  With  Elucidations.  By 
Thomas  Caulvle.  2  vols.,  12nio,  Cloth,  $2  50;  Sheep,  §3  30; 
Half  Calf,  $G  00. 

PAST  AND  PRESENT,  CHARTISM,  AND  SARTOR  RESARTUS. 
By  Thomas  Caulyle.     12mo,  Cloth,  §1  25. 

EARLY   KINGS    OF    NORWAY,   AND    THE    PORTRAITS    OF 
■  JOHN  KNOX.     By  Thomas  Carlyle.      12mo,  Cloth,  $1  25. 

REMINISCENCES  BY  THOMAS  CARLYLE.  Edited  hy  J.  A. 
Fkodde.  12mo,  Cloth,  with  Copious  Index,  and  with  Thirteen  Por- 
traits, 50  cents. 

BROUGHAM'S  AUTOBIOGRAPHY.  Life  and  Times  of  Henry, 
Lord  Brougham.     Written  hy  lliuiM'lf     3  vols.,  12mo,  Cloth,  ^G  00. 

MARCUS  AURELIUS  ANTONINUS.  By  Paul  Barkon  Watson. 
Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  §2  50. 


10  Valuable  and  Interesting  Works. 

FROUDE'S  LIFE  OF  THOMAS  CARLYLE.  Part  I.  A  His- 
tory of  the  First  Forty  Years  of  Carlyle's  Life  (1795-1835).  By 
James  Anthony  Froude,  M.A.  With  Portraits  and  Illustrations-. 
12mo,  Cloth,  $1  00.  Part  II.  A  History  of  Carlyle's  Life  in  Lon- 
don (1 834:-]  881).  By  James  Anthony  Froude.  Illustrated.  I2mo, 
Cloth,  $1  00. 

LIFE    OF    CICERO.      By   Anthony   Trollope.      2   vols.,   12mo, 

Cloth,  $3  00. 

FROM  EGYPT  TO  PALESTINE.  Through  Sinai,  the  Wilderness, 
and  the  South  Country.  Observations  of  a  Journey  in.ide  with  Spe- 
cial Reference  to  the  History  of  the  Israelites.  By  S.  C.  Bartlett, 
D.D.     Maps  and  Illustrations.     8vo,  Cloth,  $3  50. 

THE  LIFE  OF  JOHN  LOCKE.     By  II.  R.  Fox  Bourne.     2  vols., 

8vo,  Cloth,  $5  00. 

THE  ATMOSPHERE.  Translated  from  tlie  Fiench  of  Camille 
Flammarion.  With  10  Chromo- Lithographs  and  8G  Wood-cuts. 
8vo,  Cloth,  $G  00 ;  Half  Calf,  $8  25. 

A  TEXT -BOOK  OF  CHURCH  HISTORY.  By  Dr.  John  C.  L. 
Gieseler.  Revised  and  Edited  by  Rev.  Henry  B.  Smith,  D.D. 
Vols.  I.,  II.,  III.,  and  IV.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  25  each:  Vol.  V.,  8vo, 
Cloth,  $3  00.      Complete  Sets,  5  vols.,  Sheep,  $14  50;  Half  Calf, 

$23  25. 

THE  HUGUENOTS :  their  Settlements,  Churches,  and  Industries  in 
England  and  Ireland.  By  Samuel  Smiles.  With  an  Appendix  re- 
lating to  the  Huguenots  in  America.     Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

THE  HUGUENOTS  IN  FRANCE  after  the  Revocation  of  the  Edict 
of  Nantes ;  with  a  Visit  to  the  Country  of  the  Vaudois.  By  Sam- 
uel Smiles.      Crown  8vo,  Cloth,  $2  00. 

THE  LIFE  OF  GEORGE  STEPHENSON,  and  of  his  Son,  Robert 
Stephenson  ;  comprising,  also,  a  History  of  the  Invention  and  Intro- 
duction of  the  Railway  Locomotive.  By  Samuel  Smiles.  Illus- 
trated.     8vo,  Cloth,  $3  00. 

THE  VOYAGE  OF  THE  CHALLENGER.  The  Atlantic:  an 
Account  of  the  General  Results  of  the  Voyage  during  1873  and  the 
Early  Part  of  1870.  By  Sir  Wyville  Thomson,  K.C.B.,  F.R.S. 
Illustrated.      2  vols.,  8vo^  Cloth,  $12  00. 

THE  POETS  AND  POETRY  OF  SCOTLAND :  From  the  Earliest 
to  the  Present  Time.  Comprising  Characteristic  Selections  from  the 
Works  of  the  more  Noteworthy  Scottish  Poets,  with  Biographical 
and  Critical  Notices.  By  James  Grant  Wilson.  With  Portraits 
on  Steel.      2  vols.,  Bvo,  Cloth,  $10  00  ;  Gilt  Edges,  $11  00. 

THE  HEART  OF  AFRICA.  Three  Years'  Travels  and  Adventures 
in  the  Unexplored  Regions  of  the  Centre  of  Africa — from  1868  to 
1871.  By  Georg  Schweinfurth.  Translated  by  Ellen  E.  Frew- 
FR.     Illustrated.     2  vols.,  8vo,  Cloth,  $8  00. 


This  book  is  DUE  on  the  last  date  stamped  below 


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